


Not So Lost in Translation

by Jessyn



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, I hope I did enough research, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm taking MASSIVE characterization liberties, Mandalorian/Star Wars: The Old Republic crossover, Okay so maybe it's an indulgence in good writing, Please Don't Kill Me, Ridiculously old Legends EU references, Sorry Not Sorry, There's probably going to be smut at some point, This is an indulgence in terrible writing, i'm a terrible human being, started as a fever dream and then kept going
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 51,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessyn/pseuds/Jessyn
Summary: This started out as something just to scratch an itch, and ... now I'm some stupid number of pages in, and it keeps growing. I'm terrible at tags, I'm terrible at summaries, and I'm a terrible person for even considering this, but it would/will not go away, so if I have to suffer, you do too.Because I'm a sick and twisted person, Din Djarin gets to pick up not only Grogu, but my Sith Marauder from The Old Republic as well. Aside from the obvious, it's reasonably canon/story compliant for The Mandalorian, though I'll own that some of my own theories are working their way in. Things happen, they all catch feels, and I have no idea where I'm going with this. I'm legitimately just writing up the incident reports, as the meme goes.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 171
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

He'd found us both on Arvala-7; the little one charming him immediately, me, not so much. I was a bigger puzzle: also likely an unknown to him species, but the tracking fob placing me at a little more than 3500 years old. Couldn't blame him – a 50 year old baby was probably easier to take in stride than a 3500 year old, blind, Sith Pureblood woman. Not that this man knew about those last two facts.

“Wait, they said 50 years old, this one is just a baby. And three thousand... she should be dead,” his voice sounded surprised even through the vocodor in his helmet. What little I could see through the Force told me that whatever he was talking to wasn't alive, per se – likely a hunter droid of some kind, though gods only know what series it might have been. Sleeping for a few thousand years kind of put me out of the loop.

“Perhaps their species age differently.” Yep, droid. “A pity, we will never know.” I heard a hydraulic hiss, the man said something, got a short reply, and then I threw myself over the bassinet as a blaster went off.

“It's alright.” The sound of leather sheathing metal was only mildly reassuring. “I'm... not going to hurt you. Either of you.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” I responded, voice still raspy from my long nap in carbonite. The first group to have found us had only defrosted me a handful of days ago. I'd hoped my sight would have returned by now, but I was beginning to suspect it was a permanent loss. “I assume you're here for the bounties on us both.”

“That's right.”

“Well, let's get this over with, then. After you.”

~~*~~

The Jawas insisted that I stayed behind with the Ugnaught as collateral, and though I insisted that the baby stay with me, the Mandalorian hunter wasn't having it. I almost, almost changed his mind for him, but thought the better of it and just let things happen as they would.

I didn't expect to be able to sense him get the snot beat out of him by the mudhorn. When the kiddo over-stretched his own grasp of the Force to help though... I felt that ripple in a big way. Enough to knock the breath from me, if I were going to be honest.

The moment they returned, I scooped up the little bat-winged baby and tucked him against my chest, murmuring softly and giving him the physical contact he'd need. I didn't initially catch the conversation between the Ugnaught and Mando, though I was certainly able to follow it once we were headed back towards his ship.

“Explain it to me again,” the Ugnaught requested. I almost opened my mouth, almost explained it, but listening to them talk about the Force like it was such an unknown kept me silent. Better to not reveal myself. Not yet. It did make me wonder what had happened in the intervening three thousand odd years I'd been asleep.

Clearly, nothing good.

~~*~~

His ship was small, but I could see his affection and care for it radiating in a soft gold glow throughout the hull from my limited Force Sight. I could 'see' him lose some of the anxiety as well as we cleared Arvala-7's gravity well and jumped. Not a lot, but some.

“'Fresher is on the lower deck,” he said, helmet and visor trained on the control panel in front of him. Slightly odd that he'd not taken it off, though I suppose it made it easier to maintain a certain distance from his quarry. Easier to keep your paychit angry and emotionally detached when all they had to stare at was an impersonal mask. “Go ahead and use it now, before I put you in carbonite.”

“If it's all the same to you,” I said softly, “I'd rather not. Three thousand odd years in that stuff is more than enough, thanks. I won't cause you any trouble.”

“Well, that explains that,” he muttered. “Alright. Stay put, then.”

And that was that.

~~*~~

Navarro hadn't changed at all. Still riddled with lava, still a mud-hole, still a hive of criminals and bounty hunters. Hylo and Gault would have been proud. Made me miss them.

Standard walk through muddy, run down streets, standard staring-but-trying-not-to from the sparse crowd. I could hear the little one making curious noises as we walked, though the deeper we went into town the more anxious and frightened he started to sound. To be fair, I had a Very Bad Feeling about where we were headed, too. I just had years of training that let me hide it.

The hand-off seemed to be going well, the Client oozing an awful red-gray silhouette to my sight. Then a door whooshed, and as blasters were drawn, I once again hunched over the bassinet.

“... I like those odds,” Mando said in response to someone.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to alarm!”

“This is Dr. Pershing.” The Client again. “Please forgive him, his enthusiasm outweighs his discretion.”

Pershing continued to mutter apologies, then lightly touched my arm. “Please, let me examine him.”

“Why? Ah!” Someone, likely a trooper if Pershing's protests were an indication, backhanded me and I landed hard on the floor, my head connecting with what I assumed was a desk as I went down.

“Shut up and follow instructions.” Yup, trooper.

“Come here and I'll teach you how,” I hissed. My head was swimming as I moved to stand again, only to be kicked in the ribs halfway there. 

“Enough.” The Client ordered. “Take her back with the child.” Rough hands picked me up and dragged me away from the desk, affording me a glimpse of the Mandalorian. His silhouette was a soft blue-silver, all I could make out as I was pulled away.

~~*~~

The sound of an explosion pulled me from whatever depths of unconsciousness I'd succumbed to. My head swam and I felt nauseous, weak – I remembered Pershing drawing vial after vial after vial of blood, but little else.

I heard the power fluctuate, and then the higher whine of emergency lighting come on. Well, good a time as any to get moving.

Reaching deep, I harnessed the tension, the fear of unknown variables, and clenched my fist. The restraints popped from my wrists and ankles, and I pushed the vitals monitor off me. I stumbled as I got off the exam table, catching myself loudly on a crate or a tray of some sort. I could see naught but blurred shadows, Pershing having taken so much blood and not bothered – or maybe not been allowed – to give me anything to eat to combat the loss.

Okay, so escaping would be fun, since using the Force made my head and stomach churn.

Slowly, carefully, I felt my way around the small exam room, ear canted toward the sounds of conflict. My hand slid across a rounded corner, and I stopped, hearing voices in the gloom. Apparently there were no actual doors between were I was and wherever was next.

“Please, if not for me, they'd already be dead. I did what I could!” Pershing. Begging someone for his life, but the only person who would even know where the baby and I were was …

“Where is she?!” Mando demanded, and never in my life had I enjoyed the sound of someone's voice so much.

“I'm here,” I called, croaky. Hoarse. But he must have heard me, because a moment later I felt his hand on my arm. Standing there next to me, I could see him in faint silver-blue, streaked with the warmer colors of fear and anger.

“Here, hold him,” was all he said to me, pressing the baby into my arms. I must have fumbled a bit, because he carefully wrapped my arm around the little one, then took my other hand and pressed it to the small of his back. I hooked my fingers in his belt, and he led us out, slowly.

~~*~~

“How about you set them on the speeder, Mando, and we let you live?”

I heard him let out a sigh, then he gently guided me to sit down on a crate. I could faintly sense how many surrounded us, and I didn't blame him in the least for making the smart decision.

“Thank you,” I murmured as he wrapped my other arm around the baby. “I appreciate you trying.”

“Who said I was giving up?” And he pushed me back and down into the speeder bed, landing sprawled on top of me. “Drive!” He shouted, and then we were moving.

And just as suddenly, we weren't. There was a smattering of blaster fire, then silence. I felt him move, slowly, then the recoil on whatever rifle he was using rippled through him. I kept still, rather than try to get out of his way.

More silence, another shock of recoil, a third, and then I had a flash of Oh Shit across my brain. “Above you!” I hissed, only to be met with two quick blaster shots and the subsequent thud of bodies. Followed immediately by a massive amount of blaster fire.

“Dank farrik...” he muttered. I could feel his head drop for a moment before he returned fire, a nauseating shade of yellow that felt like defeat sliding through him that I could see only because he was on top of me. That was a new one for cursing to me. At least, I assumed it was cursing.

“You tried,” I started, one hand coming up to press his cuirass, but I was cut off as the sounds of blaster fire changed. Instead of being solely directed at us, it started to sound as if it was being directed up. I heard a jet pack – and was forcibly reminded of Shae Vizla for a split second – then another man telling us to go, that they would cover our escape.

“We'll have to relocate the covert!” I heard Mando yell over the sounds of battle.

“This is the Way!”

“This is the Way,” he echoed, then dragged himself up and pulled me out of the speeder, my hands wrapped around the kidlet once more.

~~*~~

Hyperspace was a relief – the heavy sigh he'd let out told me we'd made the jump, even if the engine noise hadn't. The leather of his seat creaked as he relaxed; I was still close enough in the co-pilot's chair I could see his silhouette sag and his head drop back against the headrest.

I let the silence stretch, content to tuck myself up around the little gremlin. I was cold, exhausted, shaking, and faintly nauseous, all after effects of blood loss and adrenaline. Somewhere along the line, I must have drifted off, because when I woke, I'd been wrapped in a blanket and we were floating along in dark space between systems somewhere. Sub-light engines and hyperdrives sound different.

“Alright, sweetling,” I murmured, carefully stretching so I didn't dislodge the baby. Only, he wasn't in my lap anymore. Flinging the blanket off, I stood, scanning the cockpit for him. Coming up empty, I turned and made for where I remembered the ladder being.

Finding it was easy enough, but my Force Sight didn't provide me with a lot of details yet – I wasn't that familiar with this ship. Growling, I carefully set one foot on the top rung, searching for the next one with my foot, then the next. I made it three rungs before I got overconfident and missed the fourth, swearing as I fell. My hip took the brunt of the fall, and I managed to catch myself on my forearm before I could hit my head on the deck.

“Shit, are you alright?” Mando's voice was still filtered through his vocodor. He helped me up with a surprising amount of care, leading me to a crate and helping me sit.

“I'm fine,” I said, perhaps a bit tersely, my pride and my rear smarting. “Where's the baby?”

“He's here.” Gloved hands places a happily gurgling bundle in my lap, the smell of drool covered jerky hitting my nose. “Caught him tearing around the hold. Figured I'd give him something to eat and let you rest.”

That earned Mando a smile. “Thank you.” I turned my attention to the brilliantly white-gold silhouette in my lap, tracing his bat-wing like ears. “Shame on you for getting into things that aren't yours, little one,” I teased, confident that he could sense the love behind the reprimand. I'd always liked children. “You should be more respectful of our host.”

“It's … it's fine.” Mando sounded a bit uncomfortable, but he covered it well enough. “I'll have to get some more webbing, strap things down better, that's all.”

The kiddo cooed, and the droolly sounds that followed told me he was working on the jerky. I let the silence settle some, content to let Mando drive the conversation. I could feel his eyes on me, even if I couldn't see them.

“What... I mean...” He started, then cleared his throat. “I've never seen a species like you. Either of you.”

Ah, well, straight to that one then.

“I don't know about the wee thing,” I said, slowly. “Even in my time his species was rare, and I never learned anything about them other than that they exist.”

“And you?”

“I'm Sith. Pureblood, maybe one of the last, given it's been so long.”

“Huh. Never heard of that one,” he muttered.

~~*~~


	2. Chapter 2

Sorgan (I absolutely adored Cara, she reminded me forcibly of Sadako Jorgan). Tattooine (still a sandy hellhole, but Peli was sweet enough). A space station (Xi'an and Burg set my teeth on edge, Mayfeld just ran conflicted). A Republic prison ship (they're still around, I shouldn't be surprised...). And then, a holo from Mando's former handler.

“It's a trap.” My voice was flat as the holo faded into static.

“Yep, it is.” I watched as he flipped switches, bringing up the navicomp. Enough time spent with him and on the Crest had allowed me to hone my Force Sight enough to see some details. Like the ladder rungs.

“We're going to need help.”

“Yep, we are.”

“Cara?”

“Smart girl.”

I snorted a small laugh. “Can I request a pit stop before we hit Sorgan?”

“Why?” The chair creaked as he turned to face me.

“There's a couple things I need to pick up. That will help me protect myself and the gremlin.” And you, I wanted to add, but he was well equipped to protect himself. Usually.

“Alright.” He sounded cautious, wary. Smart of him – I'd never asked or offered input on where we'd go before. “Where are we going?”

I reached around him and keyed in coordinates from memory. I felt him still under my torso, the silence suddenly taking on a razor sharp edge.

“You've got to be joking.”

“No joke.”

“That is in the heart of Imperial Remnant space.”

“Mhmm.”

“Imperial Remnant. You know, the people that nearly killed you and the kid. The ones that are still actively hunting you.”

“I know.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“We're not going to Morriband.”

“Korriban,” I corrected him automatically, forgetting about linguistic drift for the moment. “And we are. I can't effectively protect us without these weapons.”

“What are they?”

My turn to go still. I'd picked up enough of the most recent galactic history to know he probably wasn't going to like my answer if I told him the truth, if he even understood it. So, what to do?

I sighed softly and reached behind me for my customary seat. Reflexively, Mando guided me down. Maybe it was time after all.

“Okay. I'm … going to tell you some things, that you probably won't like, or understand. I'm asking you now to hear me out, and to trust me when I tell you that everything I'm saying is true and not some carbonite induced delirium.” I looked up from my hands to approximately where his eyes would be – I still couldn't see details on people, and maybe I never would. Their auras were too bright.

“Don't insult my intelligence.” Anger. Okay, I could deal with that. Fair.

“I wasn't intending to; I'm sorry.” I took a breath, pressing my index fingers to the bridge of my nose, then my lips. Where to even start. “The tracking fob on Arvala-7 wasn't lying to you. Chronologically, I really am over 3500 years old. Physically, I'm all of 30. Carbonite does some interesting things.”

He didn't respond, though I could practically feel the 'get on with it' expression he must have been giving me.

“The little one isn't the only one who has powers,” I continued, the ball from the stick shift squeaking softly as I mentally unscrewed it. I couldn't see enough detail to know if he'd heard it. “Thirty five hundred years ago, there were thousands of Force-sensitives, most of us trained in one doctrine or another.” The ball floated over to hang between us; I let it spin slowly. “Two, if I'm being honest. 'Sith' isn't just my species, Mando. It is – was? – my religion, my training, as well.”

“I don't follow.” The ball still spun between us.

“The Force is …” I stopped, thinking. What I knew of the Force was likely far beyond a simple explanation – Marr and Satele had seen to that. “The best way I can explain it is that it's an energy field, not so much created as maintained by all living things. It was here long before we were, and will be long after. Some people are more sensitive to it than others; we can learn to harness it and use it to manipulate the environment around us, like I'm doing here,” I gestured at the ball. “Or use it for other purposes. To my knowledge, there are only two lasting doctrines on how to do that, though.”

A gurgling coo at my knee told me that we had company. I reached down and plopped him into my lap, the ball continuing to hover in place. It shouldn't have surprised me that he felt my use of it.

“So, he can do this?” Mando gestured at the kid and then to the ball. “As easily as you?”

“Someday.” I looked down at the glowing baby in my lap with a soft smile. “He's going to need practice, and training, but not like mine.”

“Why?”

Oof. Well, we were getting there anyway. “Everything that I can sense of his training tells me he was being taught by Jedi. They primarily adhere to what they call the 'Light' side of the Force; their discipline has always been focused on letting go of one's emotions and using the Force for the greater good. There is no emotion, there is peace, et cetera. My training, in the Sith doctrine is … less altruistic.”

“How do you mean?”

“Before I get into this, I need you to understand that one, when I refer to the Sith, from here forward, I'm referring to the doctrine, not to my species, and second, that I don't adhere to the vast majority of their tenets any longer.”

“I'll bear that in mind.”

I nodded, then sucked in a breath. This was going to be … interesting. “The Sith focused their training on the 'Dark' side of the Force. Emotions are encouraged, as they are a faster avenue to power, and thus, to pulling oneself through the ranks of the Order. Fear, anger, pain – all these were encouraged, cultivated, even, in an effort to gain more personal power and status. Peace is a lie, there is only passion and all that. It... rather set the Jedi at odds with the Sith, and I'm sure you can see why.”

“The Sith sound like the Empire.”

“They were the Empire, for a while. But that was a very long time ago. For you.”

I could see him working through the anger and betrayal, the red and black streaks swirling through his usual silver blue. “But you don't follow that anymore,” he finally ground out.

“No, I don't.” A swipe of green relief, thin and fragile, but there.

“Wait. You said 'most.'” The green was replaced by a wider swath of orange, his guard coming up.

“I did say 'most',” I agreed, making sure my voice stayed soft and nonthreatening. The rest of the Sith Code floated automatically through my brain.

“Which ones?”

“To use my abilities to strike fear, sow discord, to accrue power... that's all distant past. But my emotions, the most basic tenets of my training, remain. Through my emotions, I can access the Force, use it to protect myself and those I care for.” I let him pull the little one from my lap into his, then sent the ball floating into the child's hands as Mando wrapped him in a protective embrace. “I am not proud of what I did, or who I was. But I will not apologize for it. Those experiences made me who I am, set me on the path to find the child, and you. Without them, we would not be where we are.”

I watched him work through the emotions, the kid in his lap thankfully oblivious. After a long moment, he settled back into the colors I associated with him.

“What are these weapons on Morriband, then?”

I didn't correct him this time. “My lightsabers.”

“Your what?”

Oh boy.

~~*~~


	3. Chapter 3

Korriban had always been steeped in the Dark Side, and the menace emanating from it wasn't anything new, at least to me, but the lack of comm traffic threw me for a long moment before I remembered when I was.

“I don't like this,” Mando muttered. “No fleet presence, not even a patrol. Middle of their territory and there's nothing here but a dead planet.”

“Oh, it's not dead,” I responded. “Even if there's been a mass extinction event, which I doubt, it's far from dead.”

I heard the leather creak as he looked at me. I'd have to explain Force ghosts another time. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against my seat, slipping back into the early memories of my time at the Academy, using them to open myself to the Force in a fuller sense than I had since thawing. Almost immediately, the malevolence of dozens of dead Dark Lords flooded my mind.

I heard the baby make a noise of distress, felt him cover his eyes and Mando scoop him out of my lap, but it was distant. Focus on me, you assholes. Leave the kid alone. I'm a bigger threat.

Tomb after tomb after tomb... “There you are,” I purred, finally finding what I was looking for.

“Landing sequence initiated... where am I going?”

His voice pulled me slightly from my concentration, at this point, more an effort to keep the little one from being assaulted than anything else. “Here,” I murmured, reaching over and tapping in some coordinates. “Korriban is not a place for the little one, Mando,” I continued. “Set down, let me off, and then go back into a low orbit. There are too many things here that would treat him like a snack, in more ways than one.”

“If you think I'm letting you out on that rock by yourself --”

“Enough.” My eyes opened and I looked at him, hoping my pupils were directed towards where his should be. I could all but hear him gritting his teeth – I'd inadvertently slipped and used my Don't Fuck with the Emperor's Wrath voice. Well, no going back on that now. “This is for his safety – there are … entities here that would destroy him in less than a second, and I can't keep their focus wholly on me if he's planetside too.”

“And what about you? I'm not about to let you put yourself at risk of these... whatever they are that might destroy him without backup, and I'm not about to abandon you here if the Imps show.”

Oh. And I'd been doing so well to quash my developing crush. Shit.

I sighed. “Mando, I trained here. I'm from this place. I can hold my own, and it will take me less time to get what I'm after if I'm not having to hide the little one with the Force. I'm a bigger threat than anything on this planet, but the wee one is so malleable that he'd be too much a temptation for them.”

“Who?”

I took a breath to start an explanation, but was saved by the sound of the landing gear extending. “You're happier not knowing, trust me on that. Look, I'll take a comm with me, and if I'm not back in two hours you have my blessing to leave me here or come find me, at your discretion. But please, give me those two hours without having to protect anyone but myself.”

Silence. Then, I heard him jerk a nod, and before he could finish, I was gone.

~~*~~

I heard the Crest lift off behind me by the time I'd made it half way up what was left of the Academy ramp, and felt several hungry presences make to go after it. “Ohhhh, no, no you don't.” Mando and Munchkin safely away, I fully opened myself to the Force, and suddenly had the complete and undivided attention of the planet.

_Interloper, traitor, coward..._ I could feel them beginning to crowd around me, hungry, scheming. I let them feel my discomfiture, gave them incentive to focus on me.

_You are not of this place, you don't belong here. You abandoned your path._

“Yeah, probably,” I muttered, and kept walking. It was vaguely disconcerting to see black almost-shapes swirling through my vision.

_You are the last of your kind, Israa'neryn._ Okay, that was new. One of the not-shapes in front of me started to coalesce into something, but I kept going. Into the temple, to the left, take the second leftmost corridor. Whatever this particular presence was kept solidifying, keeping pace with me.

_You should consider, child, what it is you're doing. There are powers, tools on this planet that could be used to return my body to me. We would be the only Purebloods in the galaxy, and we would reign supreme._

“Fuck off, Tenebrae. I already killed you twice,” I sighed. “And if mine and Lana's visions were right, I'm going to have to do it again here sooner than I want.” He faded with a dark chuckle, but the solid presence to my right remained.

“He's right, you know.” The voice in my ear stopped me short, got me to give the shadow a good hard look, edges finally solidifying into something familiar.

“Darth Marr,” I said, offering a slight bow. “It's been … far too long.”

“Yes, and yet, not long enough.” Marr placed his hand on my shoulder for a moment, then gestured that we continue my search. “Tenebrae is right, in both aspects: you are the last of the Sith, and you have the potential here to return him to a body.”

“No thanks,” I grunted. “Been down that road with him already and I don't really want to repeat it.”

“I'm glad to see your extended stay in carbonite hasn't dulled your conviction.” I snorted softly, then sneezed as dust got up my nose. “You are also right to protect that youngling; though your limited resources may pose a challenge.”

“When have they not?” I stopped in front of what used to be an office. Bits of wall had collapsed in the intervening years, partially blocking my entrance. I did what I could to navigate around them, finally giving up and moving by feel as my vision became blurred by the other entities pressing around me. Marr's presence kept them back enough that I wasn't otherwise hindered, and I silently thanked him for it. I knew that being here was taxing for him. “The Alliance is long dead, and the civil war between the Republic and the Empire is unending, even now. I've few friends, zero resources, no vision, and if I'm not careful, no weapons either. But, here we are, and I'm going to protect that child with everything I am. Tenebrae doesn't get to have him.”

“And what of your Mandalorian acquaintance?” Marr moved smoothly ahead of me, pointedly moving around obstacles he didn't actually need to. Force bless him, he was a good man in life, and in death. I followed, grateful.

“Tenebrae can't have him either; I'd be a poor friend to Clan Cadera if I didn't protect one of it's last descendants.” I don't know how I knew, but it was one of those things I'd learned not to question.

There, in the far corner of the tiny office, was the blurred outline of my storage locker. As I approached, I could sense that it was surprisingly intact for having sat here for so many centuries, essentially out in the open where anyone could have found it. Marr stopped beside it, and I looked from it to him, vision suddenly free of black mists.

“You... you stayed,” I breathed. “To protect my -” I broke off, squinting and bringing a hand up to shield my useless eyes as a white presence joined Marr.

“We did,” Satele replied. “It seemed … fitting. You were the galaxy's best hope once. It looks like you might be again.”

“And what would the Emperor's Wrath be without her weapons?” Marr chuckled softly.

“I...” I brought my hand down as Satele settled into something less blinding, boggling at both of them. “Thank you. Truly.”

They each stepped to one side, and I retrieved the few belongings I'd tucked away – a few changes of clothes, my armored robes, the ring Sunda had given me and never said a word about, and my lightsabers, their weight comforting and familiar in my hands.

“Time's up.” I jerked, turning to where I'd tucked the comm into my belt. “I'm coming to find you.”

“Shit.” I stood, clipping my weapons back into their familiar places on my hips.

“We'll escort you,” Satele said, her tone brooking no argument. I nodded, not even bothering with a token protest; between the three of us, we'd be far more interesting than the baby on my way out.

~~*~~

Mando was silent as we broke atmo, on edge until we'd been in hyperspace for a solid hour. I let him be, taking a moment to put away what I'd retrieved in the small corner of the hold I'd claimed. It also gave me time to retract my senses back to my immediate surroundings – leaving myself so open for so long had been exhausting, and I was starting to lose the edges on a few of the details I'd finally managed to gain.

Which probably had a lot to do with how Mando managed to sneak up on me.

“Who else was there?”

His modulated baritone behind me had me spinning, one blade lit and coming up in a slash as I turned. I caught sight of him mid swing and halted the movement, the rich blue-black of my saber humming in the silence between us. One heartbeat. Two. I remembered how to breathe and shut off my weapon. He remained perfectly still, apparently unfazed by the fact that I'd just pulled a blade on him.

“What?”

“On Morriband. Korriban, whatever.” He didn't move. Hadn't moved, even when I had my lightsaber to his neck. “When you came out of that temple, there were two people with you. Who were they?”

That rocked me back on my heels. “They... they let you _see_ them?” I choked out.

“Look, lady --”

“Israa.”

His turn to be caught off guard. “What?”

“Israa. My name is Israa.” I shook my head. “Months now we've been on this ship together and I can't believe I'd forgotten to give you my name.”

“Ah.” I was pretty sure he cocked his head at me, his silhouette had moved just enough. “Israa. Pretty.”

Why was I blushing? This was ridiculous. “Uh, thanks. To answer your question, though.” I stopped, mentally chewing on how to explain Satele and Marr to him.

“Were they what you wanted to keep the kid away from?” Even through the vocoder, his voice had a threatening edge to it. It pulled me back to myself, a reminder of what he is and does.

“Not … exactly?” I could feel him staring. He'd polished silence as a tool into a fucking weapon. I huffed a little, trying to think of how to explain. “What all do you know about the Force? The Jedi?”

“Only what you told me.”

“Ohhhhh...kay.” Babbling from knee-height. We both looked down, the gremlin making gimme hands at my lightsabers. “Uh, no, sweetling, those are not toys. Not for you.” I bent down to pick him up, but Mando beat me to it. Clearly, my lack of straight answers was not setting well.

“I... look, I clearly missed out on a lot of galactic history here, which means I'm seriously lacking in context. There's only so much I can explain without sounding like more of a raving lunatic.”

Mando gestured to a couple of crates, indicating we should sit. He even had the decency to make sure I actually landed on one, instead of the floor. Maybe I hadn't completely terrified him. “Try me,” he said.

So, I did.

And some ridiculous amount of time later, long after Munchkin had fallen asleep in his lap, he nodded. “I think I understand. Some of it.”

“It's kind of ...” I half laughed and shrugged.

“A lot,” he finished. “I do understand now why you struggled to simplify it. It's rather like trying to explain the Way to someone.”

I nodded, letting the silence fall comfortably between us. Somewhere in the course of my explanations, he'd let his guard down, relaxed. He reminded me a lot of Sunda in that way.

“Israa?”

“Hmm?” I pulled my head up from where I'd been picking at my cuticles.

“You're blind, aren't you?”

“I... yeah. I am. Mostly.” I deflated a little; it felt like it made the loss permanent, admitting it out loud. “How did you know?”

“That first night, after Navarro. When you missed a rung, I started to suspect.”

“Ah.”

“Sorgan confirmed it,” he continued, voice soft. “You were never quite able to make eye contact with Omera or Cara, even when you were looking right at them. After that, I made sure things in the hold didn't get moved around much. You navigate well enough outside the Crest, though.”

I dropped my face back toward my hands, again lightly picking at my cuticles. “I have a limited ability to see with the Force.” Why did this feel like I was confessing my deepest secrets? “It's... it's like looking through an infrared scope all the time. Shapes of things in varying colors, but no detail. You could take your helmet off in front of me, and I'd never see your face. Not that I'd ever expect you to.”

He grunted and I heard him get up, ostensibly to put Munchkin to bed. When he returned, he settled behind me and took the end of my long braid in his hands. “Must be hard to take care of all this when you can't see it,” he murmured.

I choked out a small laugh, my hands going to my face. This was … incredibly soft of him. “You've no idea.”

“Probably not,” he agreed. I could hear the smile in his voice. There was a small, metallic klink as the gold spiral came free and he set it down, then surprisingly gentle fingers working through the heavy plait, followed by a comb. “ _Ganar mesh'la gemas, ori'shya nuhaatyc_.”

The tears I'd been suppressing threatened again. After enough time with Torian, Shae and the clans, I'd picked up enough Mando'a to understand, even if I wasn't exactly fluent. Beautiful hair, he'd said, more than he'd ever seen on one person.

The comb passed smoothly through my hair, then stopped. I felt him reach up to the coiled braids at the crown of my head, searching for the pins that held them in place. They came down, one by one, each getting untangled and combed smooth before he started the next. “ _Copaanir at narir ibic darasuum_ ,” he continued, finally working the comb and his fingers through the entirety of my hair, no more braids to snag or get in the way. _I've wanted to do this forever._

I closed my eyes at that; Sunda had said the much the same in Basic the first time he'd helped with my hair. It wasn't until a tear dripped onto my hands that I realized they'd started at all.

“Who was he?” Mando's hand settled on my shoulder, his other braced against the crate we were on. “Your shoulders only ever tighten like this when you're remembering someone.”

“You're entirely too perceptive for your own good,” I managed, taking a moment to breathe.

“Comes with the job. You don't have to tell me.”

“It's fine... I need to, I don't know. Come to terms with it, I guess.” I bowed my head, my hair falling around me in a heavy, black-red curtain. Mando just waited, patient as always. “His name was Sunda Rohr,” I started, scooting back and half turning to face Mando on the crate. He let his hand slide off my shoulder to rest on my knee when I brought my legs up under me. “Cathar, gorgeous deep gray fur. He ... was the closest I ever got to a life partner.” I felt his fingers tighten for a moment on my knee while I gathered myself. “You -” My voice caught and I pressed my hands to my eyes.

“I remind you of him.” He did an admirable job keeping his voice steady, but the apology was there regardless. I nodded in response.

“You sound a lot like him,” I finally managed. “The way you handle yourself, too. We'd never defined what we were to each other, we didn't really need to. And then...”

“You went into carbonite,” Mando finished for me. I couldn't respond, couldn't bring myself to dry my face. We just sat for a long time, then he gently pulled me into his lap, pressing my head to his armored chest and brushing my hair out of my face. “I'm sorry it causes you pain, _mesh'la_. That I cause you pain for being a reminder.”

I wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, he had nothing to apologize for, but the words stuck in my throat. He seemed to pick up on the sentiment when I started to relax against his chest.

“It's Din, by the way,” he said a long time later.

“Hmm?” I picked my head up just enough to tip my face toward his.

“You gave me your name, Israa. Now you have mine: Din Djarin.”

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please dear god someone leave me a comment or something so I don't lose my mind... I'm absolutely terrified I'm making an embarrassment of myself here, lol. Don't worry, there's more coming. I lost track after I broke 20 pages.


	4. Chapter 4

Somewhere along the line, Din had tucked me into my hammock, because the next thing I awoke to was alarms blaring, the _Crest_ trying to shake itself apart, and Cara swearing a blue streak. Thankfully, my stumble to the ladder was short, as Din must have regained control of the ship before I ascended to the cockpit.

“We need someone to watch that thing,” Cara was saying as the door slid open. She handed Munchkin to me without even blinking, the little gremlin looking at me with a guilty expression.

“Aside from me,” I quipped as I dropped into one of the copilot seats, giving the tyke a firm look.

“Yeah,” Din said. “We do. Since you're part of the package deal, Israa.”

“Got anyone in mind?” Cara dropped into the other seat, still giving Munchkin the side-eye. He made a sad little noise and shoved his face into my chest, hiding. I could feel the apologies radiating off him, as well as the apprehension about going back to Navarro, poor thing.

“Maybe.” Din turned to look at me and the baby, his shoulders dropping some as he took in the sight of the hiding toddler. “I know you're scared, buddy. It'll be okay. You just can't mess around with the controls, alright?”

Munchkin made a snuffling noise and tried to bury himself deeper into my torso. Din's shoulder's dropped even more and I heard him sigh. I gave him a soft smile, then tipped my face down.

“Hey there, little one,” I murmured, gently prying him just far enough away from my chest that I could tilt his face up to mine with one finger under his chin. I sent him feelings of love and understanding; to be frank, I was pretty scared too. The little guy sniffled, especially after I gave him a very edited version of what could have happened when he yanked on the stick, then made a distraught sort of noise and turned toward Din. I got the impression of outstretched arms and gimme fingers, then Din made his not-quite-laugh sort of huff and took Munchkin from my lap.

“He's sorry,” I explained. It was fascinating watching their auras blend at the edges; Din's took on some of the warmer gold tones from Munchkin, and he in turn picked up swirls of Din's blue. “He didn't understand what could happen, but he does now.”

“What do you mean, he's sorry, and he understands now?” Cara sounded confused, as well as a touch angry. “You understand him?”

Shit. I'd forgotten Cara didn't know. She was so similar to Sadako, fit so seamlessly into our small group, that I'd let familiarity get the better of me.

“Cara, now isn't-” Din started, but she cut him off.

“Don't you 'Cara, this isn't the time' me,” she snapped. “What the hell is going on?”

“Stop.” I held my hand up, forestalling any further argument. “I'll explain, but first, I think we need to gain an extra set of hands. Cara, if you would be kind enough to meet me in the hold, I'll be down in a moment.”

She grunted, then stood and disappeared below. I could feel Din's eyes on me as I took a moment to gather my thoughts.

“Be careful with her,” he said. “The Empire blew up her planet a few years ago. She's holding something of a grudge.”

“I know.” I sighed, standing. “I felt Alderaan die even in carbonite. I'll give her the edited version, unless she straight up asks.”

“Mmh.”

~~*~~

“Cara!” I heard Din's voice dimly over the rushing in my ears – Cara had me pinned up against a bulkhead, her forearm pressed to my throat, aura a swirling morass of blacks and reds. “Cara, stop! What are you doing?!”

I blearily watched his silver-blue arm reach out and yank her off me, the former drop trooper immediately turning her assault against him as I collapsed. Recycled air had never tasted so good.

“She's one of them! She's Imperial, and you've let her on your ship! You're _working_ with her, letting her near the kid, how could you!” She rained blow after blow on him, Din remarkably patient as he let her back him into a corner. By the way his head's outline moved toward me, I could tell he what he was asking without asking. I shook my head, sucking in one more breath before I managed to speak.

“She didn't let me finish.” I pushed myself to my feet, still a bit unsteady. Bracing myself with one hand against the bulkhead, I held up the other in a placating gesture.

“Ah.” Din moved, finally, catching Cara across the face with his elbow then knocking her feet from under her with a vicious sweep. She landed hard on her back, already moving to get up, but as she rolled over, he knocked her legs again with a kick and pinned her, one knee against the small of her back and a hand wrapped firmly around her wrist and pulling it back and up behind it's respective shoulder. She spluttered and swore, but he had her firmly stuck and she knew it. “How far did you get?”

“Told her Munchkin isn't the only one who's Force sensitive. She asked me if I was a Jedi and I said 'no'. Then she asked me if I was a Sith, and I said 'yes, but-' and then she tackled me.” I still sounded winded, ragged. “What the kriff did I miss?”

“What did you _miss?!_ ” Cara shrieked, trying to throw Din off her again. “You missed my planet blowing up because the Emperor's pet wizard got an itchy trigger finger is what you missed!!”

“Stand down, Cara!” Din told her with a firm shove into the deck. I closed my eyes and looked away from them, a pained expression on my face. “Sith is her species!” Using the hand I had against the bulkhead as a guide, I slowly sank down onto the floor.

“'Sith' is what they called that black suited menace that blew up Alderaan,” Cara spat. “'Sith' is what they whispered the Emperor was in the barracks at night when other bases hadn't checked in for weeks at a time and we were all scared out of our minds we'd be next. 'Sith' is what the brass said destroyed the Jedi, hunted them down, burned them out of hiding. Don't tell me that Sith is just her _species_.”

Her words stung, and had a bitter, solid ring of truth to them. I cast back in my hazy carbonite memories, beyond Alderaan's destruction, to the other, fainter disturbance that had managed to touch me. “Oh, gods,” I breathed. The echoes of so many dying in moments, the abject terror of children being betrayed by someone they thought they knew. Munchkin's fear as he was hurried away.

I was hyperventilating; I could hear my ragged breathing as I tried to drag my psyche away from what the Force was showing me. I felt sick, dizzy, like I was free falling through the void. The further in the visions – memories? - pulled me, the more I could feel a darker thread, a more manipulative orchestration behind all of it that rang nauseatingly familiar. I heard (felt?) him start laughing, and I slammed my mental barriers back into place, then promptly turned to my left and started dry heaving.

Tenebrae, that sick fuck. Three times and it hadn't stuck, and Lana and I had been right. Damn it.

“Israa?” Din's voice was in my ear, his hands pulling the heavy curtain of my hair back behind me. “Israa. Dank farrik, _mesh'la_ , talk to me!”

“ 'm fine, I'm fine...” I managed. I let him help me up, leaning hard against his armored side. Cara was standing in the corner, her silhouette indicating that her arms were crossed, anger, hurt and betrayal still seething through her. I was shaking, I hated vomiting, and somehow dry heaves were worse. “Cara, I … there's nothing I can say that will make it right; I know that. I'm so sorry for what happened.” She grunted and I held up a hand. “Empty platitudes, I know. If you're willing to listen, will you let me explain myself?”

I don't know if it was my ragged state, or Din literally holding me upright that got her to agree, but she did. So I explained, as succinctly as I could, the distinctions between Sith and Sith, why I could understand Munchkin to a degree, and what I'd just seen. I left Tenebrae out; they weren't ready for that yet. To be fair, neither was I.

When I stopped talking, I watched Cara deflate. She was still hurting, confusion and disbelief turning her into a technicolor bruise pattern before my eyes. “It's bat shit insane, Israa,” she finally said. “But I believe you. I'm sorry.”

“Your reaction is understandable; you don't need to apologize.” I offered up a tired half-smile, still leaning heavily against Din.

“I'll, uh,” I heard her shuffle a bit. “I'll just go get the kid, alright?” I could hear her hands and boots slapping the ladder rungs before either Din or I could respond. When did I close my eyes? I felt Din breathe out a fair bit of tension, then he scooped me up and deposited me in my hammock.

“She nearly killed you, Israa,” he said, draping a blanket over me. “Why didn't you stop her? From what you've told me, you could have, without a thought.”

“She needed to see I'm not a threat to her,” I mumbled. Sleep was tugging on me hard, and I was thankful we still had a few hours yet before we came out of hyperspace. The last couple of days had been taxing. Something cool and smooth touched my forehead, gently _tink_ -ing against my piercings; the back of my exhausted mind registered what it was, but not enough to make it through the haze.

“Don't scare me like that again, _mesh'la_.”

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the encouragement! It helps. :) I'm aware I'm playing fast and loose with Cara's established deployment history, but I feel like it works well, so I'm going with it.


	5. Chapter 5

Tiny, three fingered hands were tugging on my piercings, accompanied by happy babbling. One particularly solid tug got me to reach up and press a finger to his little hand. “Ooof, easy there, wee man. Those are attached. It hurts when you pull too hard.”

Munchkin made an I'm Sorry Mama noise and smushed his face against mine in a nuzzle. “It's alright, sweetling, you didn't hurt me that much. Look, no blood, I'm okay.”

Wait. Mama? Whaaaaaaaaaaa....

“Good, you're awake.” Cara strode into the hold, cutting off my train of thought. “Mando filled me in on what your little pit stop was about. We have some time before lift off, so let's see you get some practice in.”

I shrugged and lifted Munchkin out of the nest he'd built against my chest while I was sleeping. “If you insist; I suppose I could go through practice forms.” Cara took him, albeit hesitantly, while I swung down and sorted myself out. “I'll be out in a minute; just let me get dressed.”

A grunted affirmative, then her footsteps left the _Crest_. It was a fair enough request, after all, I'd kind of had to talk up my weapons to get Din on board with the idea, and I'd not actually used them but for that thirty second interlude since losing my normal eyesight.

As my armor settled around my body and I relaxed into it's familiar weight, I realized how much pent up tension I'd been carrying around without it. Each lightsaber came to rest in their customary places at my waist and I felt myself straighten. For the first time since defrosting, I took a deep breath and actually felt something like my old self: Israa'neryn, Alliance Commander, Emperor's Wrath.

“...Israa?” Din's voice caught my attention as I descended the ramp, fastening my gold hair spiral into the end of my braid. He sounded faintly awestruck about something.

“Damn, girl.” Cara. She sounded impressed.

“I'm sorry, did I miss something?” I gave them a puzzled expression, glancing between the two of them. A slight movement at Cara's feet drew my attention downward, and I saw Munchkin scooch behind her legs.

“The armor suits you.” I heard the Ugnaught's voice, then watched him shuffle into view. As before, he was an unassuming pale gray that I was coming to associate with those at peace with who they were.

“Kuiil put it better than I could,” Cara stated. Din hadn't said another word.

“I...oh. Thanks?” Crouching, I looked toward Munchkin again. “Come here, sweetling. I'm still me; come look. It's just armor.” I held my hand out to him, an invitation to come over. It took him a minute, but once he'd gotten close enough to touch my hand, he relaxed. “See? Nothing to be afraid of.” I smiled and lightly booped his nose before standing. With a happy shriek, he toddled back over to Cara and plopped himself down in the dirt with his favorite piece of the _Crest_.

Shaking my head, I moved out into a more open area. “It won't take me long to go through the practice forms, you know.” I cocked my head at Din and Cara. “It's not as if I can do full contact sparring with anyone.”

“I don't follow.” Ahh, Din had found his voice at last. “They're just hardened light.”

Oh. Right. They'd never actually seen what a lightsaber could do. Crap.

“Uh, yes, and no.” I chewed on my lip for a moment, thinking. “Ah. Kuiil, what's the most difficult to work piece of scrap metal you have around?”

Three minutes later, a pile of finely shredded durasteel lay at my feet, edges still cooling on the top layers.

A heartbeat's silence, then another.

“Okay, so they can cut through durasteel. Give me a big enough blaster and I can shoot through it, too,” Cara scoffed. “That little display doesn't prove you know how to use them, though.”

I sighed, then looked over at Din. “Shoot me.”

“She's got a point, Israa,” he said dryly.

I laughed and shook my head. “No, I mean shoot me. Literally.”

“What?” He straightened up from where he'd been leaning against a fence. “You're joking.”

“Nope, I'm not.” I pointed one of my blades at him. “Shoot me.”

“Israa, I'm not going to --”

“Gods damn it, just shoot me already!”

“No! I'm not --” He cut off as a blaster barked from Cara's direction. I blocked the shot, sending it careening off into the dirt somewhere away from us. More silence.

Cara fired again, then a third time as she began to move. I blocked each shot, each one splattering dirt clods in various directions. She started giggling as she moved around behind me, forcing me to look away from Din to a certain extent. “Ohhhh, chickie, this is _way_ too much fun.”

I snorted, making sure to keep her at least in my peripheral vision, such as it was. “I'm not even breathing hard,” I said, directing my words at Din and letting my voice drop to a purr. “Come on, Mando. Make it a challenge for me.”

~~*~~

I have got to learn to quit while I'm ahead.

It had only taken the two of them minutes to get to the point where I had to use both lightsabers, which had it been anyone else, would probably have impressed me. An hour later, I was doubled over and breathing hard. “Alright, I yield, you've made your points,” I panted, sheathing my lightsabers and taking a knee. My last practice match had basically been a grand melee against Sunda, Shae, Lana, and anyone else who wanted to have a go at the Commander, only days before I was sealed in carbonite. Apparently, while being a popsicle for so long hadn't materially aged me, it had done a number on my stamina. Shit.

Cara laughed and hauled me to my feet. “Gotta say, that was impressive. I can understand why you wanted those things back.” She clapped me hard on the back. “I'd recommend not showing them off to anyone else just yet, though. They kind of make you stick out.”

“Even more than I already do, you mean.” I sucked down one last restorative breath. “Sound advice; thank you.”

There was excited babbling and tugging at my robes around knee level, Munchkin gesturing and probably making grabbies at me. Cara did me the courtesy of picking him up and handing him over as I nodded my thanks. “Liked that, huh? Was it fun to watch?” An enthusiastic shriek was his response. I laughed and kissed his head. “Maybe we'll get lucky and have another practice round soon. But right now, it's definitely nap time for you, and I need to clean up before we leave.”

Somewhere in the course of my conversation with the wee man, Cara had moved off to help Kuiil, and Force only knows where Din had gone. I shrugged; they'd all be along shortly anyway.

The _Crest_ was blissfully silent, even peaceful, as I settled the little one into his own hammock, and he immediately snuggled down into his blanket nest. I ran one finger along his ear, then slid the door to Din's excuse for a stateroom closed. A hand settled on the small of my back. Had I been anywhere else, on anyone else's ship, I'd have fried whoever was touching me within an inch of their life with Force lightning, but Din's quiet presence behind me told me exactly where he'd disappeared to after practice ended.

The nervous energy he was radiating told me a whole lot of other things, too.

“I've never seen anyone move like that.” He did an admirable job of sounding nonchalant, for all that his hand was practically burning a hole through my robes. And my restraint.

“Wasn't as fluid as I would have liked,” I managed, throat dry. _Down, girl. Now is_ _ **soooo**_ _not the time._

“I couldn't tell.” Gods, he sounded so much like Sunda I desperately wanted to keep up the post-sparring shower fuck tradition I'd gotten used to. Din's aura, when I finally managed to turn myself around to look at him, was all but screaming the same. Okay, so, violence as foreplay; I could handle that.

But.

“This isn't....” I couldn't finish the thought; he was crowding me into the corner between his bunk and the armory. Focus, I had to focus. There were potential witnesses, and I had A Lot of Baggage to deal with still.

“I know,” he murmured, just loud enough for his vocoder to pick up. “When this is over, we should ... talk.” And then he was gone.

Uh huh, talk. Sure.


	6. Chapter 6

“At least cover your tattoo. No reason to flaunt it. Now, where are they?” Karga sounded far to boisterous for his own good.

I pressed my head against Din's back, suppressing a groan. I was perched behind him on one of Kuiil's blergs, Force only knows how I was keeping my balance. This whole situation _reeked_ of duplicity, which was wholly expected, but I had to play along. Din subtly reached back and squeezed my leg. At least I knew he and Cara were right there with me in distrust.

Carefully, I slid off the blerg. Munchkin's new pram floated forward and I followed, forcibly keeping my hands relaxed at my sides when Karga reached for him.

“So, this little bogwing was what all the fuss was about.” _Don't move, Israa, let it ride. Little man isn't scared yet._ “What a precious creature. I could see why you wouldn't want to harm a hair on it's little wrinkled head.” Karga turned his attention to me; the colors swimming in his silhouette made me want to vomit, but I had to play this cool. “And this young woman is quite striking. I don't blame you, Mando, I might have gone back for her, too.”

_Don't puke, don't puke, don't puke..._ Eugh. It was almost as bad as Tenebrae dropping a line on me.

“Well. I'm glad we'll be able to put this matter behind us.” Karga kept talking, but I tuned him out as Din pulled the pram back, then reached down to help me back onto the blerg. Everything about that exchange made me feel ill and slimy.

It wasn't terribly long before the light started fading, and Karga picked out a spot for camp. Everything about it had me on edge – there was no cover, nothing save the blergs to use as perimeter sensors, an open fire, fueled by half-congealed lava, and Karga was far too relaxed. Experience told me this was about to go pear shaped.

And I was right, because not even half a carcass of whatever they'd shot and roasted later, several large, winged creatures buzzed the camp. Instinct had me reaching for my lightsabers where I had them hidden in my cloak, but Cara shoved me down over the pram and took a guard position above me as she fired at them. I heard Karga made an anguished noise, and Kuiil yelling at whatever these things were, and then they were gone.

Cara stepped off me a few moments later, moving toward where I could hear Karga groaning. Din came up to occupy most of the space she'd vacated. Pushing myself off the pram, I looked over and could see a sickly yellow gray haze moving up one of his arms. Din touched my shoulder and I nodded, letting him know that the baby and I were alright, and we joined the group gathered around Karga as Cara called for another med-pack.

“Get that thing outta here,” she hissed at me. I gave her a confused look, then glanced down, and there was Munchkin, pressing right up against her thigh and reaching for Karga's injured arm.

“No, wait.” Kuiil, sounding a bit awestruck. To be honest, so was I, now that I could get a sense of what Munchkin was doing.

“What's he doing?” Din had tilted his head down toward my ear, speaking just loud enough for me to hear him.

“Something I can't,” I breathed back. “He's healing him.”

~~*~~

“But without the child, none of this works!” Karga protested.

“It'll work, to a point,” I said softly, Din finally lowering his arm from where he'd been holding me behind him. “I have to be there anyway; he'll have half his prize in plain sight. It ought to serve as enough of an initial distraction.”

“She's right.” Din turned to Kuiil and started outlining a plan. Cara grumbled under her breath, but went with it, catching something Din tossed her without looking.

“Come here, Israa.” I heard binder cuffs close around Din's wrists as Cara met me half way. A second pair settled over my wrists, and I realized what she'd caught – his spare set. “Want me to blindfold her?” she asked over her shoulder.

“No point,” I answered. “I'm blind anyway. Take my lightsabers though; the armored robes are suspicious enough. Might as well pull up my hood, too.”

“You're shitting me, you're blind?” She sounded incredulous. Her hands brushed over my waist as she took my weapons, tucking them away into her belt, then carefully pulled my braid over one shoulder so it wouldn't catch in the deep hood of my cloak. “The way you move around, I'd never have guessed.”

“Force sight.” I shrugged. “Works well enough, but don't ask me to tell you what color your hair is. Apparently, I can't make shit for eye contact anymore though, and I'm pretty sure the client will have picked up on that from our first, uh, meeting. For lack of a better term.”

“Enough chatter, let's go.” Din was doing an excellent job suppressing his nerves, at least as far as his voice was concerned.

Munchkin squeaked as we started to move away. I did what I could to reassure him without looking back, and got a distinct Mama, No impression in response.

Again, with that label. Kriff, I needed time to process some of this.

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short one, because we're rapidly approaching the full extent of what I have written and I don't want to keep y'all waiting forever while I get a backlog built up.


	7. Chapter 7

“Look what I brought you, as promised.” Karga pulled me forward to stand next to Din and tugged my hood down, the empty pram floating between us. An unfortunately familiar red-gray silhouette oozed from it's seat, stopping uncomfortably close. I kept my face aimed at where I was pretty sure the far wall was.

“What a stunning creature.” The client passed the back of his hand across my cheek. I closed my eyes and flinched away as his ring caught sharply on one of my tendrils. The contact sent a shudder through me, far too much of his aura rubbing off on mine for someone who was Force-blind. I missed the rest of his exchange with Karga while trying to mentally scrub away the slimy feeling he left behind.

Cara gently nudged me to move, bringing me to a stop and setting my bound hands on the back of what I took to be a booth seat. She made sure my fingers brushed against Din's pauldron, though whether that was for his benefit or mine, I couldn't tell. Everything sounded muted, fuzzy, and I found myself gripping the duracrete booth to keep myself upright.

I felt a spike in the tension in front me, then faint movement. Cara muttered something I didn't catch. Why was everything so wobbly? More muttering and shifting, a blisteringly red spike of _Danger, Israa'neryn_ across my brain, and I managed to breathe “Down,” just before the cantina window exploded.

Someone must have pulled me behind cover, because my next coherent moment was of Din brushing his hands over my face and repeating my name while blaster fire chipped holes in the duracrete around us.

“Israa, are you hit?” His face was in mine, I could feel the cool radiating off his helmet. “Israa!”

“No, not hit,” I slurred. I scrunched my face up, trying to focus on the last thing I clearly remembered. The client, his ring catching on my face... ah, hell. “Drugged. The client...” I tried to turn my head and guide his hand to where I'd felt the metal catch, but I'm pretty sure all I managed was a weak flappy hand and my head lolled to the side.

There must have been some visible mark, though, because I vaguely heard Din swear. “Stay down, Israa, but stay awake, you hear me?”

I made a noise of assent. A moment later, I started awake to the sound of blaster bolts hitting metal, followed by Cara's grunt of frustration. _Stay awake, Israa. You can do this._

“Miss something?” I sounded weak, and probably drunk, but they heard me.

“Grate's blocking the way out.” Cara. She sounded legitimately terrified. “They have an E-web.”

“Dunno wha'that is.” I tried to push myself up, but a hand kept me in place. It felt like Din's, maybe Karga's. I was too stoned to care, or to be able to grok whatever was being said to us by our assailant. “Use one of'm lightsabers. Don' poin' it at yer face.”

“Wait, _she's_ an Imperial? What did he call her, the Emperor's Wrath?” That was Karga, sounding too far away and far to upset to be holding me still.

“Different Empire,” I mumbled, but lost track of where I was going with it. The hand on my shoulder disappeared.

_Focus, Israa._ I squeezed my eyes shut; my everything was starting to hurt, the kind of bone deep, fever ache that comes when you've been fighting a bug for too long and your body just tells you to fuck off and be still. Whatever that asshole had hit me with, it was either too strong a dose, or wasn't just a sedative. I reached for the Force, trying to use it as an anchor point to keep me with it just a little bit longer. I had nanosecond flash of clarity, then it slithered away and left my head pounding.

“Th' baby's here,” I whispered.

“What?!” I heard Din, and then didn't hear anything.

~~*~~

Something cold and sharp being pressed into the side of my neck brought me back into semi-consciousness.

“They are injured, and she is blind, but they are _not_ helpless.” I could hear Din speaking, somewhere off to one side. “... move objects with their minds.”

I heard a woman respond, not Cara, but couldn't catch the words. “Hey, sweetheart, stay with me.” Oh. There she was. I made some sort of noise, and I must have started to pitch forward, because her hand pressed to my shoulder and kept me upright. Whether I was standing, or sitting, Force only knew. “Come on, Israa. Stay with it, we're gonna get out of here.”

“ 'm 'wake.” That made her chuckle a little.

“Sure you are. They nailed you good, wish I knew what with.” I felt her tap my chin and I brought my head up, trying to focus on the vague blur in front of me that was her head. “You good?”

“Nuh uh.” I swallowed hard. A tentative reach for the Force made me pitch forward again, and she caught me against her chest. “Need a stim. Won't b'able t'keep up.”

“Don't you worry about that, chickie.” I winced; the blaster fire from somewhere was far too loud. My head was killing me, and I still hurt everywhere. “No stims until we know the bacta clears whatever you're on.”

“ 'kay. Wha's bacta?” I whispered, and passed back out.

~~*~~


	8. Chapter 8

My eyelids felt like I had gravel under them when I came to. I made a small, distressed noise and rolled over, pressing my head into the firm bunk beneath me.

Wait. Bunk?

I sat up, far too quickly, clearly, because my head started spinning. A legitimate whine escaped me as I pressed my hand against the nearest wall and tried not to be sick.

“You're awake.” Din's voice was as warm as his hand across my shoulders, somehow, he managed to slide into the coffin sized space that was his bunk and take my weight against his chest. His beskar'gam made me shiver. “How do you feel?”

“Like actual bantha shit,” I breathed, my shivering intensifying. I felt him wrap a blanket around me, then tuck me back against his chest. It helped, but I was still ridiculously cold. “Why am I in your bunk?”

“Didn't want you to fall if you woke up and I wasn't here.” He was rubbing my arm and back, trying to help dispel my shaking. “You're still running a hell of a fever – I'm glad you're not human, it would've killed you already.”

I laughed weakly, then groaned, the short, huffy movements of it making my head throb. “ 's the baby okay?”

“Shh, he's fine. Sleeping. In your hammock, actually. Refused to be anywhere else.” Din squeezed my arm gently. “Pretty sure he's worried about you. You okay for a minute?”

“Yeah.” I dug my fingers into the thin mat under me to brace myself, and he slid out from behind me. He was back before I could start swaying too much, again sliding in behind me and taking my weight off my hands.

“Here, drink.” I felt him press a cup into my hands, then help me lift it to my mouth. The water was warm without being scalding, and I took a deep swallow. “Slowly, Israa. I know, it tastes good, but slow down, _mesh'la_.”

Gods, I wanted to just curl up and wrap his voice around me like a blanket. Everything hurt. “Where are we?” I rasped, when he pulled the cup away.

“Hyperspace.” Din tucked the blanket more firmly around me, but made no move to leave. “Headed for Ryloth; need to get a few things.”

“What's on Ryloth that we can't get on Navarro?” Ryloth wasn't that much of a hub, what was he on abo...oh, right. I was operating of off... extremely outdated information. Oops.

“Better food. Bacta patches and infusions. A blood scanner so I can figure out what they shot you up on.” He gave me another squeeze, chuckling softly. “Water help at all?”

“A little.” I let my eyes close, tired beyond belief. “You're helping more,” I wanted to tell him, but didn't. Boundaries.

“That so?” I felt him shift, probably trying to get a better look at my face instead of the top of my head.

“ 's what so?” I mumbled.

“I'm helping more, huh?”

Oh. Shit. “That was my outside voice, wasn't it?” I sighed. Well, this was embarrassing. “I'm sorry. Boundaries should be maintained; I'll just...” I went to push away and stand, but Din kept me still. Probably a good thing, considering.

“It's fine, _mesh'la_.” I could hear him suppressing laughter. “Relax.” He pressed me back into the bunk, insistent. Not being vertical anymore helped my head considerably, and I was drifting on the edge of actual sleep when I felt the mat shift and a large, warm body pressed up against my back. I roused myself enough to try to make room, but Din shushed me and pulled me tight against his now unarmored chest. “Better?”

Something in my brain must have short-circuited from the fever, because he sounded different. No vaguely robotic undertones to his voice. Huh.

“Israa?” He pushed himself up on one elbow, looming over me to try to get a look at my face. He sounded concerned. Why? “ _Cyar'ika,_ you still with me?”

Right. Verbal response required.

“ 'm here.” I groped around for a minute, then found a leg, I think, to pat. He relaxed as I responded. “This is good; thank you.”

“Mhmm.” Din tugged the blanket up over both of us, my shivering starting to subside as the trapped body heat settled into my aching joints. “Sleep. I'm right here.”

~~*~~

“Israa.” Din was shaking me by the shoulder, the pressure in my head telling me he'd gotten me upright. I still felt awful. “Come on, _mesh'la_ , wake up. You need to drink something.”

I made a small noise of protest but dragged my gravel-laden eyes open. “ 'm awake.” Oof. I sounded like Death herself. “Everything hurts.”

“I know. Come on, drink.” He pressed the cup to my lips, letting me sip. It smelled faintly spicy, but it was only a mild tingling instead of a burn when I stopped drinking. Soup, then. “There you go. Little more.”

I let my head drop back against his shoulder after another sip. His arm was wrapped tight around my back and side, holding me upright as much as offering comfort, even though he was armored up again. The soup had burned away some of the sinus pressure, and between that and finally feeling warm-ish, I desperately wanted to drop off to sleep against him.

“Hey now, stay awake for me.” Din kept his voice light and teasing, but I could feel the concern thrumming through him. I grunted and rapped a tired knuckle against his chest. “That's my girl.” I could hear the smile that came with the squeeze on my arm. “I'm going into town; I'll take the baby with me. Shouldn't be gone more than a couple hours. Knock on my chest plate again if you followed that.”

I managed two very shallow pings against his beskar.

“Good. Here, drink; you've almost finished it.” He pressed the cup to my lips again, and honestly, this time it was easier to swallow the soup. I even managed to pick out a couple of the flavors, though I couldn't easily identify them. “I'm engaging the security protocols, alright?”

I pinged his chest again. I felt him shift as he set the cup down, then he wrapped both arms around me for a long moment. “ _K'oyacyi, cyar'ika_ ,” He murmured. I don't think he knew it was loud enough for me to hear. _Stay with me, sweetheart._ “I'll be back soon, alright?”

“ 'm not going anywhere.”

~~*~~


	9. Chapter 9

“Ah!” Something wickedly sharp pricked my forearm and I'd have pulled away if it wasn't for two things: the firm grip around my wrist, and the rush of sweet, blessed relief that flowed from the injection site. I heard Din mutter something, but his tone sounded relieved. Whatever software he had loaded into that helmet of his must have been giving him encouraging news.

And suddenly, there was a small, six-toed, babbly weight on my chest. “Hey there, wee man,” I whispered, reaching my free hand up to trace over an ear. Tiny fingers grabbed at mine, pulling my hand to his little chest and refusing to let go. I could feel him hiccuping and trying not to cry. “Hey now, shhhh. Come here.”

Munchkin wailed and slid off my chest, waddling up and burying his face in the hollow of my neck, tiny little arms reaching around me as far as they would go. “Shhh, it's okay, it's okay.” I rubbed his back, making soft shushing noises while he cried.

The needle was pulled from my arm, quickly chased by a gauze pad and pressure. And then Din's helmeted head dropped into my upturned palm. I turned my wrist just enough so that I was cupping the side of his helmet as if it were his cheek. “I was that bad, huh?”

“Neurotoxin.” His voice was muffled by both the helmet and the bunk. “Enough to kill a Wookie, Israa. I had to give you four times the dose of bacta I'd use on _myself_.”

Kriff. Din wasn't the largest person I'd ever met, but he wasn't exactly little, either. I tugged on the bottom of his helmet just enough to encourage him to move up on the bunk and lay next to me. “Come here, Din. I'll be alright, thanks to you.”

He didn't move. With a soft groan, I pushed myself up, letting Munchkin resettle himself against my shoulder. There was still lingering muscle soreness and body aches, but I expected that. I slid myself forward so that I was sitting as close to Din as I could, my hand still pinned under his head.

“ _Val nar dralshy'a kyr'amur ni,_ ” I murmured. My Mando'a was rough, probably sounding dated and overly formal to him, but it got my point across. _They'll have to try harder to kill me._

Din's head snapped up. I could feel his eyes boring into me through the helmet and my own blindness. “You speak Mando'a.” It wasn't a question.

“Badly, I'm sure.” I tugged him up so he'd sit. He did, eventually, never taking his gaze off me. “I spent a fair bit of time with Shae Vizla – Mandalore the Avenger – and the clans. I picked up enough to get by.”

“So, you understood me.” Oh. I watched embarrassment swirl through him. I nodded, slowly. “Why didn't you...”

“Say something?” I shrugged and looked down at Munchkin, the little guy having cried himself out and tucked into the crook of my elbow. He felt sleepy, but content, happy to have his weird little family put back together. “There were more pressing things going on.”

The silence stretched between us, quickly falling from awkward to comfortable. I could feel Din arguing with himself over the terms of endearment he'd used. The conversation we'd had before leaving Arvala-7 the second time floated through my head, and I mentally shrugged.

“I don't mind,” I said softly, testing the waters. “That you called me those things, Din. You can still, if you want.”

Total surprise rolled off him, followed by something along the lines of awe, then affection. No, not affection, it was stronger than that, but I hesitated to call it love or infatuation. Well, that was fair. I wasn't really sure I could put a label on what I felt about him, either.

“Thank you,” he finally murmured. I heard the bunk creak slightly as he leaned forward, then his helmet pinged against my piercings as he pressed his forehead to mine. “ _Aliit ori'shya tal'din._ ”

Family is more than blood.

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be sleeping, and instead I'm writing, oh god.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, a little something extra for you: https://jaydecaminus.tumblr.com/post/638883127100669952/issraneryn
> 
> Meet Israa. Though I can't quite figure out how to make the link clickable.

“... I'm told you can tell me where to find them.” I slipped easily into the space behind Din as he spoke with Gor Koresh, the Abyssinian's body guards barely giving me so much as a glance. To them, I was just some little slip of a thing in a dark cloak, face obscured by a deep hood. I looked like half the crowd surrounding the ring.

“It's uncouth to talk business immediately.” Koresh hid his irritation well. “Just enjoy the entertainment.”

“Keep track of him,” Din's voice was the barest of whispers, a brand new micro-comm nestled into the shell of my ear. He meant Koresh, not Munchkin, the little one reasonably protected in his pram and always in range of either of us. I brushed my fingers across the back of Din's arm, under the pauldron lip, in acknowledgment.

“Do you gamble, Mando?”

“Not when it can be avoided.”

“Mmh.” Koresh sounded thoughtful. “Well, I'll bet you the information you seek that this Gamorrean's going to die in the next minute and a half.” He settled more comfortably in his seat. “And all you have to put up in exchange is your shiny beskar armor.”

“I'm prepared to pay you for the information,” Din replied. I felt him tap my leg lightly, and melted back closer to the wall. We'd already discussed maintaining a low profile (“No laser swords Israa -” “Lightsabers.” “Whatever. Unless they go for the baby.”), but we were both going to need the operating room. It was about to be go time. “I'm not leaving my fate up to chance.”

“Nor am I.” I heard blaster fire, followed by the crowd panicking and bolting for the doors.

“Wait.” Din's voice in my ear again, as silence fell surprisingly quickly. The cadre of bodyguards had all drawn on him, and had it been anyone else in his seat, I would have ignored orders. I reached out with the Force, mentally marking the now accessible doorways.

“... and I'll walk out of here without killing you.” And there was my tug back to reality.

“Thought you said you weren't a gambler,” Koresh scoffed. I saw the flash of wariness through his silhouette as Din replied.

“I'm not.”

I Force-pushed Munchkin's pram out of immediate danger before it closed completely, the majority of my focus on where Koresh was scrambling to. “Go, I've got this,” Din grunted.

“On it,” I murmured, and followed Koresh.

The Abyssinian wasn't nearly as fast on his feet as he wanted to believe. From his perspective, I probably caught up with him terrifyingly quickly, but considering what Din was after, that was rather the point.

“Now, now,” I purred, catching and holding him just a few feet off the ground with a lazy flick of my hand. Koresh made choking, terrified noises. “We'd like what we came for, if you please.”

“Can he breathe?” Din came up behind me, a faint wave of _want_ rolling off him. I snorted at his question.

“If he can remember how. I do have a sense of decency, _beroya_.” I kept my smooth purr in place. Koresh needed to understand that I was just as dangerous as Din if we were going to get out of here in short order.

“All right, all right, stop!” Koresh gasped. “I'll- I'll tell you where he is.”

“Ah, lovely.” I crooked a finger and spun him around to face us, bringing him closer.

“But y-you must give your word you won't kill me.” He'd directed that at Din, which was fine.

“I promise you will not die by my hand.” Ohhhh, he sounded so much like Sunda, down to the bored undertones in his voice. I cut him A Look from under my hood.

“Or hers?”

“Or hers. Now, where is the Mandalorian you know of?”

“Tattooine.” Koresh grunted and squirmed, trying to find a way out of my hold. “City of Mos Pelgo. The information is good, I swear it by the Gotra.”

“Well?” I could feel Din looking at me. Koresh was a violent shade of yellow-orange; he wasn't lying, but he was also so frightened it made it hard to discern if this was the whole truth.

“Grain of salt, but he's not lying.”

“Mmh.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Tattooine it is, then,” he said, and started walking, Munchkin's pram trailing behind. I set Koresh into a very slow, gentle spin and followed Din, still keeping the fat man a bit off the ground.

“Hey, hey! Put me down! Mando!” Koresh's panic was rising the farther away we got from him. “Put me down! I can pay!”

“That wasn't part of the deal.” Ohhhhh, gods, just save me now, because that was exactly the kind of twist Sunda would use. I didn't even think; I burst the light bulb that had been humming above our interrogation spot and dropped Koresh hard, not fazed in the slightest at the screams that started as we rounded the corner.

~~*~~


	11. Chapter 11

Din had 'rearranged' the armory and mentioned that there was space for my lightsabers next to Cara's favorite automatic blaster rifle after we'd left Ryloth. It was one of the few spaces left on the _Crest_ I wasn't familiar with, so I had to focus on my sight to make sure I was putting them away appropriately. Which was how he managed to sneak up on me. Again.

As I closed the cabinet, Din crowded me up against it, his hands wrapping lightly around my wrists and drawing my arms up just above my head. I didn't have to look over my shoulder to see his aura; I knew where this was going. And damn if I didn't want it, too.

“Israa...” The cold of his helmet brushed against my ear, then down the curve of my neck. I didn't know if he could smell through the damn thing, but the effect it had on me was the same as if he'd not been wearing it at all. “We need...”

“To talk,” I finished for him, maybe a little more breathlessly than I'd intended. I let my head rest against the cabinet doors, eyes closing. He was so close it was intoxicating.

“Mhmm.” He took a half step closer, stretching himself over my back. I made a small noise, his hands turning so he could thread his fingers between mine. “Tried to bury it; was supposed to be just a job. You and the kid.”

“I know,” I breathed. I could feel him, _all_ of him, pushed against me in a solid wall of want. I shifted my weight, just enough to redistribute it more evenly, and the movement pulled a low groan from him.

“Knew it was a lost cause,” he continued, pressing his visor into my hair, the gesture reminiscent of a kiss. “Navarro, when you thanked me. For trying.”

“That long?” I turned slowly, letting my wrists cross where he held me. Every adjustment made him take short, ragged breaths. I wanted this, I so, _so_ wanted this, even though the back of my mind flickered bittersweet questions about if I was ready.

“That long.” When I stopped moving, he placed his forehead against mine. I had to put up additional mental walls to bring his aura down to something bearable to look at, to be able to keep myself from drowning in the emotions rolling off of him. “You were so sick, _cyare_ ; I couldn't...” He squeezed my fingers hard, a small, broken sigh making it through the vocodor.

“Shhh,” I soothed, pushing my forehead up a little to create pressure. An attempt at holding him, since he had my hands pinned.

“ _Ni kar'taylir darasuum, Israa'neryn,_ ” Din murmured. My breath caught, just for a moment. I knew that phrase, I'd heard the Caderas and the Jorgans use it enough, even though my brain didn't want to translate it in the moment. “I won't push you. No labels, no demands. But I can't bury this anymore.”

Gods. If that wasn't the hottest, most heartfelt thing a man had or would ever say to me, I'd go back into carbonite for another three thousand years. I tugged my hands free of his, gently worming my way through the layers at his throat until I could brush his jaw with the barest tips of my fingers. “ _Me'copaani,_ Din? _Ni olar._ ” _What do you want? I'm here._

He made a strangled noise, and before I could wrap my head around what was going on, his helmet was clanging across the deck. His hands cupped my face, thumbs stroking over my tendrils for the barest moment before he kissed me.

Everything in my awareness took on shades of blue and silver. On instinct, my fingers found their way into his hair, one hand curling around the back of his head, the other tangling in the soft curls that brushed his cowl. I felt Din wrap one arm under my rear, lifting me and pushing us both up hard against the armory cabinet.

His free hand wrapped itself in my braid, pulling my head to one side, then he buried his face in my neck and inhaled deeply. “You smell amazing,” he groaned. “Like tihaar and boontaspice.”

It took me a minute to register what he was saying, his lips on my neck were distracting as hell, and being enveloped by his aura didn't help things. “Din. Din, wait,” I gasped, tugging lightly on his hair. “Your helmet...”

“Loophole,” he muttered between assaults. “Can't see my face anyway. Checked before leaving.”

“Leaving wher..aah...” My question became a moan; his free hand was pulling my armor loose, the robes falling part way open and giving his mouth better access to my chest.

“Navarro.”

I keened softly as his hand brushed over a bared breast, rocking my hips forward in response. Din's approving growl was muffled. His hand came away from my skin, reaching up to work the clasp on his cuirass loose. I slipped the bandoleer off him, then started tugging his cowl free. I worked it loose enough to get my hand down his collar, hand splayed out over his back, nails clawing firmly over his skin.

And then Munchkin started wailing.

~~*~~


	12. Chapter 12

“Keep your hood up.” Din's voice floated back to me as we coasted into Mos Pelgo. I squeezed his thigh in acknowledgment, my head tucked down low against his jet pack to keep my hood in place when we'd been at speed. It hadn't been comfortable, but it was better than getting sand in my eyes.

I could pick up the suspicion from what population there was as we came to a stop, reasonably certain that the majority of people were fixating on Din. Beskar'gam had a tendency to draw attention. I tucked Munchkin against my chest while Din swung off the bike, then nearly dropped him as I caught my foot on what was probably a step.

“Kriff,” I muttered. Munchkin patted my arm in an It's Okay, Mama (I was really going to have to sit down and unpack that soon) gesture, and a familiar, gloved hand took me by the elbow and led me into the cantina. He squeezed once in question as we stepped down into the cantina proper, and I nodded. “I'm good. Thank you.”

“Can I help you?” The bartender's tone was gruff, marginally unwelcoming. I managed to find myself a seat and eased into it. Something about Tattooine was messing with me; I couldn't tell if it was the inhospitable climate and sand, the collective suspicion of the town, or if I was still just dealing with lingering effects of that damned neurotoxin. Whatever it was, it made it hard to see well enough to get around.

“Your marshal wears Mandalorian armor?” Din's voice sounded surprised. I'd missed their exchange while I was sorting myself out. Figures.

“See for yourself.”

Why the _kriff_ couldn't I see? I let Munchkin down with a quiet admonishment to mind his manners, only half listening to the conversation. I needed to pin down what was messing with me; I'd been fine in Mos Eisley, as well as the trip out here. It'd only been since we'd gotten near Mos Pelgo that I'd been having trouble.

“We gonna do this in front of her and the kid?” Wait, what? I snapped my focus back to Din, breathing a quiet 'ohhhhh shit....' when I could finally see him. Suppressed anger and betrayal, the icy calm in how he was holding himself.

“They've seen worse.”

“Right here, then?” I pushed myself to my feet as the Marshal spoke, a hand going to a lightsaber.

“Right here.”

No, no, no, no, no, this was not something we needed right now, what the hell was he doing? I started toward Din, intending to put myself between him and the Marshal, only to have to catch myself on the bar as everything started to shake. It took me a minute to follow them out the door, Din grabbing me and pulling me close to him before I could fall off the boardwalk.

I heard the beast roar through the Force before my ears. I must have gasped as I pressed a hand to my ear and the other to Din's shoulder, because I heard his voice come through the micro-comm. “What is it?”

“A greater krayt dragon,” I hissed. I pressed the heel of my palm harder into my ear, my body trying to drown out the keening whine that was a sensation more than a sound. At least now I knew why I couldn't see.

The noise peaked, then died, and I could have dropped to my knees from the relief of it. I didn't though; appearances and all that. I still couldn't see for shit.

“Maybe we can work something out.”

~~*~~

I listened to Din talk with the Tuskens, trying to ignore Vanth's seething irritation from where I sat between the two men. Now that the krayt dragon had moved off, I could see reasonably well, provided I didn't try for anything beyond my immediate surroundings. I'd been profoundly fortunate in my previous visits to the Dune Sea and never crossed paths with a krayt until now – this was very definitely not an experience I was going to want to repeat. Ever.

Din pressed a small gourd into my hands, making sure my fingers were wrapped completely around it before he let go. I knew he was looking for an excuse to touch me; we'd both been more handsy with each other than strictly necessary after being interrupted by the little gremlin perched between his feet.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Vanth asked me; he'd been handed a gourd too.

“You drink it,” I murmured back.

“It stinks.”

“That's just the rind. Drink it, you're being rude.” I raised my gourd slightly towards the Tuskens in thanks and sipped. I heard Vanth sniff and make a low 'eugh' noise.

“Do you want their help?” Din's voice was low, thick with warning.

“Not if I have to drink this.” Vanth's voice was full of contempt. I sighed, dropping my head in frustration as Din translated the Tusken's indignant response. I didn't need to listen to the rising voices to know where this was going.

“Enough!” I stood, one of my lightsabers coming between Vanth and the Tusken in charge, thrumming a low note into the sudden silence. I wasn't looking at either of them, my arm and blade simply extending into the small space between their bodies. I felt Din stand next to me, his hand resting on my other arm for a moment before he started speaking to the Raider.

“What is he telling them?” Vanth demanded. As if I spoke Tusken.

“Same thing I'm telling you,” Din responded. “If we fight amongst ourselves, the monster will kill us all.” I shut off my lightsaber, Din guiding me back down to my seat in the moment of complete quiet that followed.

“Now. How do we kill it?”

~~*~~


	13. Chapter 13

“She's a Jedi. Why are we even still working with the Sand People?” Vanth whisper shouted at Din. The scouting party had been kind enough to feed us, as well as offer a tent for the night. The group of us had crowded into it, and Vanth had started laying into Din almost before the flap closed.

“I'm not.”

Vanth ignored me. “It'll be simple – you and me draw it out, she kills it with her weapons and her magic Jedi powers.”

“I can't.”

“Bam, done, we ride back to Mos Pelgo before the suns are even all the way up.”

“It wouldn't be that simple,” Din started. He sounded tired of Vanth's bluster already.

“Why not? Jedi are supposed to be even stronger than Mandalorians!”

“Come again?” Din's voice had dropped back into the low, warning registers.

“I. Am. Right. Here.” I wormed my way between the two men and shoved them apart, a hand on each chest. I heard Din shift to look at me, and I gave him an I've Got This expression before dropping my arms and turning to Vanth. I held my finger up to him in a warning gesture. “No, shut up and listen to me.”

He spluttered, clearly not used to being put in his place by someone nearly a head shorter than him and half his weight. I heard Din's soft snort of amusement through the micro-comm.

“First. I'm not a Jedi, and no, I'm not going to explain any further.” I heard his jaw snap shut and wondered what kind of head-tilt Din was making behind me. “Second, not even the Jedi could take on a greater krayt dragon, either alone or with a Mandalorian and a wanna-be.”

“Now you -”

“Third,” I cut him off, poking my finger into his beskar'gam, “Everything about the Mandalorian culture evolved to fight and kill Force users, so don't you even think of saying something like that again, or the krayt dragon will be the _least_ of your concerns. We put in a lot of effort to make up for your little temper tantrum tonight. We're working with the Tusken Raiders, you'll follow their and Mando's lead, and you will _like_ it. Am I absolutely clear?”

I could almost hear him grinding his teeth. “Yes, ma'am,” he finally spat, and stormed out of the tent.

I heard Din wheeze, then he doubled over and pulled me against his chest in a hug. “That,” he said, poorly suppressing his laughter, “Was a thing of absolute beauty.”

~~*~~

“What're the bones?” Vanth was asking as I joined the planning party. Munchkin was a comforting weight in my arms, keeping me centered while he gnawed on a piece of jerky. The scouting trip to the dragon's den had left me more than a little out of it.

“Krayt dragon,” Din answered. He shifted slightly to make space for me between him and Vanth, his hand brushing across the small of my back for the briefest of moments.

“And the little rocks?”

“That's us.”

“It's not to scale...” I could hear the veiled derision in his voice. I rolled my eyes.

“I think it is.” Din was matter-of-fact, still intently listening to the conversation playing out in Tusken around us.

“Can't be, that's too big.”

“I think you missed the part where I said _greater_ krayt dragon last night,” I muttered. Din's soft snort came through my micro-comm, and I had to wonder just how sensitive he had his vocoder settings to be able to do that and not have it pick up the sound. I could almost feel Vanth making mocking faces at me while Din said something in Tusken.

“It's to scale,” he said a moment later.

“That's... a whole lot bigger'n I thought.”

“Ouch, hey!” I missed whatever they said next, my attention pulled to where Munchkin had accidentally bitten my finger. I shook my head at him with a little smile and booped his nose, returning my attention to the conference.

“...they getting the reinforcements?”

“I volunteered your village,” Din responded nonchalantly. I had to turn around and walk away before I laughed at the wave of You What? coming off Vanth.

I was legitimately starting to believe in reincarnation at this point.

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, this is pushing 40 pages now and I've only just tapped season two. Gah!


	14. Chapter 14

“Look, we... didn't exactly get off on the right foot.” Vanth stood in the doorway to the room we'd rented above the cantina. I knew he and Din had called a town meeting, but there was a bit yet before it started, and to be fair, the group of us needed the breather. I turned to face him, Munchkin finally snoring in my arms.

“A fair assessment,” I replied. He was an awful combination of pink and yellow, clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable. I cocked my head to one side, listening to him shift his feet.

“I wanted to apologize,” he finally managed. “I put you and your Mandalorian friend in a tight spot, ma'am, and I shouldn't have.”

I let him fidget for a moment, then gestured to an empty chair. “Come in; sit. You should have a better explanation than what I gave you.”

I turned and tucked Munchkin into the little nest I'd made him, giving Vanth the opportunity to decide. I heard his armor scrape against the duracrete furniture, then settled on the bed, facing him.

“Everything I told you last night about myself is true,” I said. I kept my eyes trained on where his should be, hoping my aim was getting better. “I am not a Jedi, but I am Force-sensitive, and I _do_ know how to use my weapons. That knowledge won't do shit for me against a greater krayt dragon.”

“You sound very sure of that, ma'am. That it's a greater krayt, that is.” It wasn't said with derision or sarcasm, but rather with quiet questioning. Interesting.

“I'm sure. I know you've lived on Tattooine forever, but I'm not sure that you know krayt dragons are … well, they're not exactly Force-sensitive, but they aren't blind to it, either.”

I heard Vanth straighten and lean forward, his aura greening with interest. “Can't say I did know that, actually.”

“It's not exactly common knowledge,” I smiled. I felt Din stop outside the still open door, just out of Vanth's line of sight. I let it go; if he wanted to interrupt, he would. “I heard it coming through Mos Pelgo long before you could have – they create a warped sort of sound through the Force. The older the krayt, the stronger the disturbance.”

“Which is why you can't kill this one? It messes with your hearing? Or, your Force sense or whatever.”

“Among other things.” I adjusted my seat on the bed, pulling one leg up under me. “The biggest reason is that if I'm close enough to it to use my lightsabers, I'm already dead. I'm good with them, really good, but they are melee weapons and even with the Force I wouldn't survive the encounter.”

“That's... fair. I can't say I'd thought about it like that.” He sat back, clearly processing what I'd just told him. “My deepest apologies. The stories about the Jedi … well, they're kind of like the ones about the Mandalorians. Legendary fighters, nearly invincible.”

I laughed softly. “If only that last part was the case.” I stood, offering my hand to him. “In any case, apology accepted, if you accept one from me, too. I was perhaps overly blunt in my initial explanation.”

“Apology isn't needed, but I accept all the same.” He shook my hand, then stood and moved toward the door as Din came through it. Perfect timing on making it seem unintentional. “I can be a little dense sometimes. I'll see you both at the meeting.”

Din watched Vanth disappear, then keyed the door closed and locked, turning to face me after. No movement, no words, just watched me for a long moment.

I raised an eyebrow at him in question, watching him swirl with color. His usual silver-blue, a rosy gold shade I couldn't quite identify, faint streaks of red that I knew to be related to the upcoming battle.

“ _Gar mesh'la, cyare,_ ” he finally murmured. He closed the space between us, arms wrapping warm and strong around my waist and shoulders. I let him envelope me, my head resting against the cool beskar. “I want you to stay here with the kid while this goes down. I know that beast messes with your sight; I don't want to put you more at risk.”

I wanted to argue, I really did. But I'd seen the fear threading through him. “Okay,” I whispered.

“I'm going to leave the bike.” I felt his arms tighten around me and I knew where this was going. I'd had far too many of these moments over my lifetime. “Israa, if … if I don't...”

“You will,” I said firmly, pulling away just enough so I could look up at him. “But I understand. I'll take it and Munchkin, go back to the _Crest_. Finish what we started. But you _will_ come back.”

“You're always so certain,” he chuckled.

“Part of my training.” I smiled and put my head back against his chest. I knew he needed this, and I could at least give him a moment of peace. “Never leave room for doubt, for that is where your enemies will strike.”

“That part of your Code?” Din asked with genuine curiosity.

“No, actually.” I gave a contented sigh, letting myself relax against him. “Just something that was ground into me from the time my gifts manifested. Would fit right in, though.”

“Oh?” He pulled away, then guided me down onto the bed, tucking Munchkin between us after he settled. “What's the rest of it, then?”

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion,” I recited, tracing a finger over the baby's ears. May he never have to learn this the way I did. “Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain power, through power I gain victory.” I could feel the words bringing me back to center, refocusing my mind. They always had. “Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall set me free.”

~~*~~


	15. Chapter 15

I was too far away from the actual battle to feel when the krayt dragon died, but when a lingering pressure in the back of my skull vanished, I figured that must have happened. Munchkin cooed at me in question, having felt it to a degree as well. I almost envied him, not having the honed, constant awareness of the Force that came with training.

Din arrived with the first wave of returnees, covered in gore. I didn't have to see it; I could smell him before he made it all the way back to the room. I simply pointed to the attached 'fresher.

He chuckled and did as instructed, letting me lock the door behind him and ensure that Munchkin was still sleeping – a behavior I'd encouraged while Din had been gone, chasing the little demon all over the cantina and boardwalks to wear him out. Which, thankfully, had worked.

I slipped into the 'fresher, carefully avoiding the gunk-soaked pile of cloth on the floor. I could see Din's silhouette crouched in the shower, scrubbing the same gunk off his beskar'gam. The sight made me smile – Torian would be proud of him.

“So, if I had to guess,” I started, just loud enough to be heard over the running water. “You let the damn thing swallow you so you could kill it.”

He snorted. “Perceptive.” I heard the curtain move, and he handed out the breastplate. I took it and set it aside; beskar didn't rust, and the air on Tattooine was dry enough that it wasn't worth wasting a towel on it. “Plan A didn't work; just pissed it off.”

“What was plan A?” Pauldrons came out next, followed by his legplates.

“Bury charges outside the den, lure it out, blow it up from below.” The helmet was passed to me, his hand groping for his under-layers. I toed them closer and he grunted his thanks.

“Oh, I can just imagine how well that went.”

“ 'Bout like you'd expect.” He got the gore out of his clothes impressively quickly. I excused myself to go hang them to dry, and when I returned, he was just standing under the water, head bowed. Smiling softly, I disrobed and slipped into the shower behind him.

Din started violently when I ran my hand up his back, turning on instinct with his hand cocked back in a strike. When his brain caught up with him, he dropped his arm with an embarrassed huff. “Impressive, sneaking up on me, _cyare_.”

“Wasn't intentional.” I lightly ran my hands up his arms, my fingertips tracing down over his pecs and coming to rest on his abs. His breath caught, and I took a half step closer, taking one of his hands and bringing it to rest on my hip. I let my other hand run back up his chest, cupping the back of his neck and gently pressing down so I could touch my forehead to his.

Din made a small sound in the back of his throat, and then pressed his lips to mine. Soft, gentle at first, like he couldn't quite believe what was happening, then deepening with the same sense of urgency from the first time. I returned in kind, laughing softly when he pushed me into the corner, hiking my legs up around his waist.

“Not risking an interruption this time,” he growled. The sheer need in his voice set something alight in me, adding to the already pooling warmth low in my belly. I whimpered as his thumb brushed over me, pushing my hips into the touch. “Can't – ngh. Can't promise I'll be gentle, Israa.”

I tucked my cheek against his, lightly scraping my teeth over his earlobe, delighting in the shudder that ran through him. “I don't want you to be,” I purred.

I hadn't even finished speaking before he was pressing into me. I gasped only slightly at the intrusion – it was far better listening to the achingly needy groan that escaped Din as he hilted himself. He held there for a long moment, almost as if he were waiting for my permission.

I kissed the curve of his jaw and down his neck, reveling in the shivering that resulted. Well. If he wanted permission...

“ _Gar nayc kadala ni,_ ” I murmured. _You won't hurt me._

He made that stunningly gorgeous strangled noise I remembered, and _moved_.

He wasn't gentle, and it was incredible. He moved like a man starved, setting a brutal pace, one hand clamped tight over my hip, the other braced against the wall behind me. I braced my shoulders against the wall, locking my ankles together to give him a counterweight. As I let my head fall back, he buried his face in the curve of my neck, murmuring in Mando'a so softly that I couldn't catch enough to translate.

Gods. Din shifted his weight, the movement changing the angle just enough to hit something devastating inside me. I keened, the sensation making me push my hips forward; I was so close already. I heard him growl, then his teeth closed on the skin of my neck. It made me clench just enough that his hips stuttered for a moment before he found his equilibrium. When he did, his thrusts gained intensity, and I saw stars.

“Oh, gods...” I gasped, my body so tight around him that if I had been more aware, I would have sworn my thighs were going to cramp. “Don't stop...”

“ _Bid pel,_ Israa... _bid kotyc,_ ” Din panted, his hand moving from my hip to wrap his entire arm around my waist. “ _Bid gebi, cyare, bid geb_ -” He cried out as he came, absolutely slamming his hips into mine and grinding his way though our combined orgasms.

It was a long time before either of us moved, and that only because of muscle fatigue. Din carefully set me on my feet, then reached over to turn the shower back on. We'd been a little too preoccupied to notice when its timer ran out. Oops.

The rest of the shower was quick. I finished and dressed first, leaving his still-damp clothes in the 'fresher for him, and got what little we'd brought with us packed. By the time Din was dressed and armored, I'd already loaded the speeder bike and tucked a blessedly still sleeping Munchkin into his pouch.

Din's hand on the small of my back made me look up from where I was strapping down Vanth's armor. As ever, I couldn't actually see the details of his helmet or face, but I could feel the smile he was giving me: soft, content, happy.

“Ready?” I asked quietly. “We'll have to find another lead.”

“We'll put an ear to the ground when we get back to Mos Eisley,” he said. “But let's get there, first.”

~~*~~


	16. Chapter 16

“No! I told you not to do that!” Din's voice pulled me toward consciousness. Of all the rough landings I'd survived over the years, this one had been one of the roughest, and that said a lot considering I'd been dropped behind enemy lines in active war zones. “How many did you eat, and were is your mom?”

Oh, gods, him too? When was I gonna catch a break and get to sort this out?

There was a fair bit of scrambling and crates being thrown before I felt a gloved hand brushing over my face. I hissed when the leather grazed one of my brow ridges, just under the piercing.

“Dank farrik, Israa; you're bleeding.” Din's voice was pitched low, but I could hear the concern, the faint edge of panic.

“It's nothing; I'm fine,” I said, catching his hand. “I promise. Sith heal fast.” I could tell it wasn't a lot of comfort to him, but it was enough. He touched his head to mine for a brief moment, careful of the split skin, then pulled me to my feet.

“Hull's breached.” He helped me around and over the scattered crates, only letting go once he was sure I was steady on my feet. “Main power drive is down. About the only thing that isn't is comms. Sun's probably gonna go down fast, too.”

“Which means it's only going to get colder,” I finished his thought with a sigh. “Alright. Let's see what we can rig up to keep our passenger and the baby warm, then I'll help with the repairs.”

I could feel him staring at me as he passed me my cloak and my lightsabers. I gave him a what did you expect sort of shrug and took a moment to pull my hair free of it's braids. Thankfully, this wasn't Hoth, but it was still bloody cold and I was going to take whatever little bit of warmth I could get.

It took us the better part of an hour, but we were finally able to rig up some emergency heaters and hang a heavy canvas over the hull breach. It wasn't ideal, but it kept the hold marginally warmer than outside, which was better than nothing.

Din finally forced me to sit down and let him clean my cut once everyone had something warm in hand. I didn't bother telling him it was a waste of supplies; he needed to feel like he had something under control. If this was what it took, then I was fine with that.

“Get some rest,” I murmured, when he finally put the bacta pads away. “I can get started on the repairs.”

“Says the blind, likely concussed woman,” he teased. I heard Munchkin gurgle and coo at the banter between us.

“Hey, space wizard, remember?” I smiled and kissed his helmet, just above the visor. “Besides, if I'm probably concussed, then I _know_ you are. I can push through it with less risk. Sleep.”

Hr grumbled at me, but went along with it, Munchkin tucking up in the crook of his arm. Tool box in hand, I gently patted our amphibious passenger's shoulder, and ducked out of the relative warmth.

“Oh, you poor baby,” I breathed, stepping back to get a good look at the _Crest_. The rich golden glow she'd always had was still there, but shot through with void-black. I lightly ran my hand across the hull as I moved around her, trying to get a sense of where everything was.

That was the thing about my Force sight. Living beings were easy to see, to read. Simply by existing, they affected how the Force moved around and through them. Objects and droids were just sort of there, varying shades of gray, if I could even see them at all. But things that had been lived in, or had a sense of permanence – beloved ships, older droids with personality quirks, family homes – those I could see and connect with, almost as if they were alive.

And Din desperately loved the _Crest_.

“Alright, sweetheart,” I murmured, stopping in front of where I thought the main drive was. “I'm no mechanic, but let's see what I can fix.”

~~*~~

I was midway through fusing another power line when a deep sense of dread settled in my gut. Din had gone to follow Munchkin after the wee thing had come out of the _Crest_ babbling, all shades of Daddy, Come Quick (I felt a little better; I wasn't the only one who was going to have parenting issues to unpack). I dropped the spanner back in the tool box, already moving for the tunnels before the sounds of blaster fire made it to my ears.

I broke into a sprint, nearly colliding with Din, the frog woman, and a giant insectoid leg a minute later. I took the leg out with one swipe of a lightsaber, and the gods-awful shriek that came after made my eyes go wide.

Iknayids. Or something very, very much like them.

I shoved Din ahead of me, cutting down a handful of the things as they leapt at us, then turned and ran. Skidding around a tight corner, I paused before sending the biggest Force push I could muster against the swarm. Anything to buy a little time.

“Move, Israa!” Din shouted. I could hear his small charges powering up as we ran. Each one made a little _chunk_ noise as it landed wherever he'd thrown them, detonating almost before we'd cleared the blast area. It didn't matter, there were still more.

“Go,” I panted as we all but face planted against the _Crest's_ hull. “Light her up; I can hold them here for a minute.” He squeezed my arm, disappearing into the hold. I squared up in front of the torn plating, breathing deep.

_Peace is a lie, there is only passion. (There is no emotion, there is peace.)_

My lightsabers sang as the bugs leapt at me, ichor sizzling on the blades as they died. I held at the hull breach as long as I could, watching the angry, writhing red wave grow.

_Through passion, I gain strength. (There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.)_

I stepped back into the hold, shoving the iknayids back with the Force as much as my weapons. Each step back took me closer to the cockpit, to my found family.

_Through strength, I gain power. (There is no passion, there is serenity.)_

I had to restrict my movements; I couldn't risk cutting through what little was holding the _Crest_ together. I did what I could to make up for it by levitating crates, webbing and debris into a makeshift barricade. The damn bugs were still coming.

_Through power, I gain victory. (There is no chaos, there is harmony.)_

I had to turn; I had to get up the ladder. If I could get into the cockpit, I could hold them at the door, give Din the time he needed to get the _Crest_ airborne.

_Through victory, my chains are broken. (There is no death, there is the Force.)_

There were too many, I'd never be able to climb the ladder fast enough. But … Sheathing my lightsabers, I gathered the Force around me and leapt up, grabbing the bulkhead before I could lose my balance as I landed. Din grabbed my wrist and yanked me into the cockpit, slamming the door controls.

I spun on my heel, the iknayids trying to scrabble through the mostly shut doors, a few succeeding. I could hear Munchkin making sounds of distress somewhere near my feet and the sounds of blaster fire from behind me, but I couldn't spare the moment to look. I gathered every bit of fear, frustration and stress I had in me.

“ _The Force shall set me free,_ ” I snarled, and shoved.

The doors immediately snapped shut. “Whatever you're going to do, do it now,” I shot at Din, already turning to look up at the view ports. Whispers of danger from above us were swirling through my mind as I dropped into a seat.

“Strap yourselves in, this is gonna be rough.” Munchkin climbed into his lap as he spoke, tucking himself as close to Din's body as he could get. I felt the thrusters fire and we were rising.

Something slammed us back down onto the ice, and if I hadn't used the Force to keep the panels from shattering, I would have had to cut off two more giant insect legs. As it was, I had to keep pushing against the glass to keep the brood mother (I could feel it, this thing was huge, that was all it could be) from shoving herself into what little safety we had.

I could feel Din trying not to give in to panic, the frog woman's abject terror, Munchkin's fear but absolute faith that Mama and Daddy would keep him safe.

I had to pull back, keep my focus on the view ports – I could hear the glass groaning under the pressures we were putting it through. My awareness narrowed until all I could see or hear was the job I was doing: push back against the glass here, balance the pressure there, damn it you giant bitch of a bug stop moving...

And then the opposing pressure just vanished. I had to let go of what I was doing so quickly to keep from bursting the glass myself that it left me dizzy, only becoming aware of blaster fire when Munchkin was pressed into my lap. By the time my head cleared completely, Din was back.

“New Republic,” he said, answering my question before I could ask as he dropped into the pilot's chair. “I'm gonna repair the cockpit; it's the only space with enough hull integrity to pressurize. At least with four of us crammed in here, we won't freeze to death on the way to Trask.”

I took a breath and nodded. The cockpit was too small for both of us to work on repairs, but there was gear enough that needed to be broken down and stowed securely, not the least of which was the armory. “Alright... how many of those crates are airtight? I can get things stowed and strapped down while you work.”

“ _Vor'e_ , Israa.” He sounded so, so tired, bordering on defeated. I cocked my head at him in question. “Not here,” he murmured, shaking his head.

I gave him a quick nod, squeezing his hand and disappearing below. I took Munchkin with me, tucking him into my robes. At least this way, one of us would be warm.

~~*~~


	17. Chapter 17

Something set my teeth on edge the moment the Mon Cal walked away from the table. The inn was busy enough I had a hard time tracking where he'd gone, but my unease solidified when we were joined by a rough sounding Quarren.

“You seek others of your kind?” he intoned. It was hard for me to get a good read on him; he didn't seem to have a base color scheme to balance things.

“Have you seen them?” Din sounded too eager. I reached over and squeezed his knee, silently begging him to temper his reactions. I knew he was hoping that these potential Mandalorians were from his covert, but experience told me we needed caution.

“Aye.” I frowned under my hood, thankful it's shadow hid most of my face. I could have sworn I'd seen anticipation and greed flash bright blue and neon green through the Quarren, but they were gone before I could be sure. Trying to feed Munchkin at the same time didn't help. “I can bring you to them.”

“Where?”

“Only a few hours sail.” I felt his gaze sweep over me and Munchkin, almost like he was assessing us. “It'll cost you, though. Especially for the three of you.”

“They go where I go.” Din shifted slightly in his seat. He inclined his head toward me. “Let them finish, and we'll meet you on the dock. We can discuss payment there.”

“Agreed.” He gave us one more once over, then was gone.

“I don't like this,” I murmured, once the Quarren was clear of the table.

“It's the only lead we've got,” Din replied. “We don't have much of a choice.”

~~*~~

I wanted to shake it off, I really did, if only for Din's sake, but the second he told me we'd lost sight of port, the unease settled into my gut like duracrete. The captain struck me as trying too hard to be friendly, offering up the novelty of a mamacore feeding as entertainment for the baby.

I couldn't object without giving away my disquiet to the crew as a whole, so I let Din stop me near the edge of the feeding pit. I wasn't really listening to the conversation, instead trying to pin down why I was so distrustful. I didn't have to wait long.

“No!” I shrieked, a bare second before Munchkin's pram was sent hurtling into the feeding pit and I was grabbed from behind. Din dove straight in after him, not even looking to see if I would be alright. I could feel his faith in my ability to protect myself as he went under.

I threw my head back as the Quarren restraining me pulled me off my feet, connecting squarely with where his mandibles connected to his mouth. I heard him cry out and swear, and though he didn't drop me, the shock caused him to loosen his grip enough that I could elbow him in the gut. He grunted and fell back, the last sound he made being a gasp of fear as I spun and slashed upwards through him with one of my lightsabers.

I threw my offhand as I turned, guiding it through the neck and tentacles of the Quarren manning the pit controls. The bladed hook of a third crew member clanged to the deck as I brought my main hand up in a block, following through with a downward slash as my offhand returned. I heard at least one jet pack from somewhere above me, chased quickly by the sound of blasters and flex wire being fired.

The captain rounded on me, snarling. I gave him my best Come At Me smirk and he charged, but I heard a blaster report from behind me and he fell before I could do more than raise my blades. A quick scan of the deck told me I'd been joined by three new comers, and that all hostiles had been cleared.

Spluttering from below me, and the ragged sound of Din desperately sucking in air. I made to sprint for the pit controls, but a hand held me back.

“At ease, Jedi, we've got him.” A woman's voice, modulated through a vocodor. Her hand left my arm and I heard her speak calmly to Din, offering an assist in getting out of the pit.

“There's... there's a creature...” he gasped. “It's got...”

“The baby,” I murmured. “Gods, I hope Kuiil's craftsmanship can hold up.” I heard a second woman's voice acknowledge us, then a splash – she must've dove in after Munchkin. If I had to guess, it looked like the Mandalorians had found us.

I sheathed my blades and knelt next to Din, taking either side of his helmet in my hands and pressing my head to his visor. I felt his sodden hands wrap around mine – he needed the reassurance of what contact I could give.

“It'll be alright,” I said quietly. “Breathe; they'll get him. Just breathe. Shhh.” He nodded against me as the muffled sounds of blaster fire bubbled up from below, his breathing slowly becoming less labored.

More blaster fire, silence, then a thud and the sound of metal shearing away from itself.

“Here you go, little one.” The woman who'd dove in after him gently placed Munchkin in Din's hands. I let my shoulders sag in relief, then stood and turned to face our rescuers.

My suspicious had been correct – three Mandalorians stood in front of us, their silhouettes ranging from self-assured silvered purples to a solid deep navy that rang of loyalty. “Thank you,” I offered, Din still reassuring himself that our foundling was alright. I was reasonably certain the woman in the center nodded in acceptance, but the movement was slight enough I couldn't be sure.

“I've been searching for more of our kind,” Din finally rasped.

“Well, lucky we found you first.” I could hear the smirk in the woman's voice.

“I've been quested to deliver her and the child,” he continued. “I was hoping that -” The sense of shock radiating off him made me turn just in time to see the flare of anger color everything in him. A glance at the other Mandalorians wasn't any help – they were simply removing their helmets. “Where did you get that armor?”

And we were back to the tone he'd used with Vanth. Great.

“Wait,” I started, moving to interpose myself between them. Din stopped me with an arm across my torso, shoving me behind him and holding me there.

“This armor has been in my family for three generations,” the woman in the center said, wary.

“You don't cover your face. You are not Mandalorian.”

Wait, what?

“He's one of them.” The only male of the trio. I heard the second woman swear.

“One of what?” I asked before Din could. This was … not an aspect of Mandalorian culture I'd ever been aware of; I'd just assumed it was a long standing habit given his career choice.

“I am Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. I am the last of my line,” the first said with exaggerated patience. Had she not just pulled Din out of a monster pit, it would have predisposed me to not liking her. “And you,” she continued, speaking directly to Din, “Are a Child of the Watch.”

“The Watch?” Din beat me to it. Only fair, I supposed.

“The Children of the Watch are a cult of religious zealots,” Bo-Katan explained. “They broke away from Mandalorian society with the goal of reestablishing the ancient way.” She sounded vaguely apologetic, but her aura colored with haughtiness and a tinge of shame. Interesting.

“There is only one Way,” Din spat, pulling me close against him before I could ask more questions. “The Way of the Mandalore.” And then my feet were leaving the deck faster than I could process what was happening.

~~*~~


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick preface: My husband just got home for the next several weeks, which means updates/writing time are about to get super sporadic. When he goes back to work, I'll be able to get back to my massive brain dumps of story for all of you.
> 
> Know that I love you dearly, I deeply appreciate your support and commentary, and that I promise, I'M NOT DEAD, I'm just busy.

“Let us pass,” Din said softly, voice laced with suppressed anger.

“Ohh, I don't think you understand,” the Quarren chuckled. “You killed my brother. Now, I'm gonna take your woman and kill your pet.”

Din pressed Munchkin into my arms, preventing me from reaching for my lightsabers, then pushed me behind him. Not that it was any safer – I could track at least three more Quarren in addition to the four or so that had joined the first. I pressed my back to his, feeling him moving slowly for his pistol.

“He didn't kill your brother.” Bo-Katan's voice was just audible over the sound of three jet packs. “I did.”

There was a flurry of blaster fire, faster than I could easily track, and then Bo-Katan was sidling up next to Din. “Can we at least buy you a drink?”

Din was quiet for a long moment, then sighed and gestured for Bo-Katan to lead the way.

~~*~~

“That planet is cursed,” Din said derisively. “Anyone who goes there dies.” I raised an eyebrow, listening without listening while I shoveled bites of food in between feeding Munchkin. “Once the Empire knew they couldn't control it, they made sure no one else could, either.”

Well, that was an interesting bit of history. Sad, but interesting – I wonder if they knew that the Mandalorian culture once spanned multiple systems, instead of just a single planet. I needed some uninterrupted time with Holonet access; I was missing far to much context.

“Don't believe everything you hear.” Bo-Katan radiated Ulterior Motive, and I was pretty sure I wasn't going to like where she was going. “Our enemies want to separate us, but Mandalorians are stronger together.”

“Not part of my plan.” Din paused and I caught a flicker of guilt off him. “I've been quested to deliver both of them to the Jedi.”

I looked up sharply, mouth slightly agape. Both of us? The baby I could understand but...

“Later, _cyare_ ,” he whispered through the micro-comm. “I promise.”

“Odd that you'd be seeking the Jedi, when you have one at hand,” Koska commented.

“Not a Jedi,” I said softly, keenly aware of how the atmosphere of the table shifted. I set my spoon down, making sure they could all see my hands on the table.

“Sith,” Axe growled. I could see in his coloring that he wanted to go for his weapon.

“Not like you think.” I held very still, made sure to keep my voice neutral. Clearly, these three in particular had a poor history with someone holding to the doctrine.

“Israa, what are you doing?” Din hissed in my ear. I didn't answer him – Bo-Katan had fixated on me, buried anger honed to a razor's edge.

“Did you serve Maul?” Her voice was quiet, deadly.

“The Lord I served,” I said, emphasis on the past tense, “has been dead for more than three thousand years, Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. I am no longer subject to the whims and power fantasies of a crazed old man, nor do I heed the call of the Dark Side.” Technically. From a certain point of view.

“Then what do you mean 'not like I think'?”

“Israa... Din's voice was loud enough for the table to hear, full of warning. I raised a hand to shush him, praying I maintained something close to eye contact with Bo-Katan.

“Are Mandalorians not of the Watch so narrow-minded as to think there are only two paths when it comes to the Force? Are we not allowed to choose our own?” I affected a sad smile, looking down at my meal and shaking my head with a soft scoff. “Truly, have the Mando'ade fallen so far?”

Complete, absolute, silence. The kind that either ends with blaster fire or acceptance.

“What do you know of the Jedi?” Kryze asked at last.

“Nothing save what Israa told me.” Din's voice was tight, though it was clear his anger was directed at me. “And what she knows isn't current information.”

I could see colors swirling through Bo-Katan, Axe and Koska, but I couldn't identify any emotions that they might have been tied to. Whatever looks they were exchanging with each other, I was blind as to what they might have meant.

“I can lead you to one,” Bo-Katan said quietly. Ulterior Motive colors returned to her silhouette. “But first, I need your help on our mission.”

~~*~~


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, this is going to have to tide you over for a bit. Writing with the whole fam damily home is HARD.

Somehow, that Mon Calamari had managed to make the _Crest's_ hold airtight again. Which, honestly, was a relief, because that cockpit was tiny, and the trip to Corvus was … not.

Though if the _Crest_ managed to not shake herself apart before we made it to the next jump point, it'd be a damn miracle.

I'd made myself reasonably scarce once we broke atmo, Munchkin content to watch me while I rattled around the hold putting things away. Din was, understandably, still angry at me, and rather than push him it was safer to just let him simmer and come to conversation in his own time. I hadn't even argued when he told me I was staying behind while he played pirate.

So seeing him leaning casually against the ladder when I looked up from what I was doing caught me more than a little off guard. I managed not to jump or shriek, but Munchkin's giggling when he caught a ripple of my internal reaction gave me away. I made a face at him, which only served to make him laugh harder, but the exchange seemed to break some of Din's tension.

“Are you hungry?” he finally asked. Softly. Like he wasn't sure if he should apologize for being mad. And like he was trying really hard not to remind me that I couldn't tell one MRE from another.

“I could eat,” I replied, just as softly. He nodded and scooped Munchkin up, letting the little gremlin climb up onto his shoulder like a Kowakian monkey lizard. The sight of tiny, three fingered hands clinging to Din's helmet made me smile.

“This ship is a death trap in the state she's in,” I said between mouthfuls. I don't know how, but the man managed to turn bland MREs into a pleasantly spicy stew in a handful of minutes. It was reminiscent of whatever he'd given me while I was sick, but definitely had more body to it.

“Mmmh.” Din tipped his helmet up just enough to get a mouthful in, Munchkin absolutely fascinated by the action. Once the seal had clicked back into place, he continued. “She'll break apart if we shoot straight for Corvus like this. What do you think, buddy? Back to Navarro fro repairs?” He was looking down at Munchkin; I could hear the smile in his voice. Wee man blinked owlishly at him and yawned.

“I think it would be good to visit some old friends,” I laughed and scooped the little one up. “Come here, sweetling, let's get you to bed.”

I'd hardly closed the door on the bunk when the tension became thick again; Din had done an admirable job burying it for Munchkin's sake, but cleaning up after dinner wasn't enough of a distraction to keep it down.

“Alright.” I turned and moved back towards the crates we'd been sitting on, intending to help clean up. Din kept his back to me in front of the sink, shoulders hunched. “There's something bothering you. _Gedet'ye,_ talk to me _._ ”

I blinked at the viscerally red streak that shot through his aura. He turned to face me, spine straight and shoulders squared, and for the briefest of moments I understood what most of his bounties probably felt on seeing him.

“You have a lot of gall speaking that language to me after insulting my culture, Israa.”

Wait, what? When had I … Ohhhhh.

“You took exception to what I said to Bo Katan?” I gave him a confused expression.

“The Mandalorians took me in, raised me as their own. How could I not take offense to what you said?”

“She was being manipulative, talking you into a corner,” I said, incredulous. “All I did was level the playing field!”

“And managed to piss off four Mandalorians in the process. Do you realize how much danger you put yourself and the kid in?” Din's voice was tight – he was trying not to yell, wake the baby, or lose his temper. That last part, at least, wasn't working. “She could have killed you!”

I scoffed, my own temper rising to match. That was low. “The closest thing to a god this galaxy's ever seen couldn't manage to kill me. I doubt some Mandalorian princess with a superiority complex could do it.”

“There were three of them, Israa.” A flat, unimpressed tone. That didn't help the situation any.

I rolled my eyes, and tossed one of his lines back at him. “I like those odds.”

“You like those...” He was all disbelief and anger. “Israa, when was the last time you went up against a Mandalorian? You know, someone who's 'entire culture evolved to fight and kill Force users'?” He paused for a beat, then got quiet. The way a tempered steel blade is quiet. “I'll bet it was before the carbonite. When you could still see.”

Ohhhhh... he did not... I clenched my jaw right along with my fists, hot, prickling anger crackling in blue electricity up to my elbows. I didn't answer other than raising one eyebrow. I couldn't trust myself to give him a verbal warning.

“Let's go, Israa,” Din taunted softly, clearly oblivious to the thread keeping me in check. “Let's see how you do against _one_ Mandalorian.”

“I don't want to hurt you,” I finally ground out. I could feel my fingernails cutting into my palms.

“I'd like to see you try. Your fancy swords don't scare me.”

The crackling intensified, spreading nearly up to my shoulders. “I don't need my lightsabers to be dangerous, Djarin,” I snarled. The knife that he'd used for meal prep and left in the sink scraped as it flew towards him.

Din dodged it, mostly, his reaction maybe a half second too slow – I saw the knife catch in that small, exposed space at his elbow. He scrambled away, trying to put space between us, but I caught him by the ankle with a lazy flick of my hand and started dragging him back toward me.

“You're not putting up much of a challenge,” I growled, unimpressed with his flailing.

Except, it wasn't just flailing. His hand connected with what was left of that droid the frog woman had used as a translator, and the thing sparked to life with an earsplitting shriek of feedback. I slapped my hands over my ears, unintentionally dropping my Force grip on Din's ankle. It wasn't until I gathered myself a second later and crushed the droid's head without looking up that I realized he'd slipped past me.

“Who said I was giving up?” He taunted. He used the same soft tone he had on Navarro when he was setting Karga up, which made it hard for me to pin down where he was.

Narrowing my eyes, I turned, slowly scanning the hold. The damage to the _Crest_ made it hard for me to focus on anything very clearly, but I caught a flicker of Din's silver-blue between two empty carbonite racks. There wasn't far for him to go; the _Crest_ wasn't that big, and there were only a few racks still hanging.

But he wasn't there when I made it to the closed ramp.

“Clever,” I muttered, turning back. I stepped free of the racks, only to get the impression of a vibroshiv flying at me. I sighed and brought my hand up, stopping it mid-trajectory. “You're going to have to try harder than tha – ack!”

Cable wrapped around my raised wrist and I lost my balance as I was yanked forward. The momentum slammed me into a bulkhead, and before I could get my breath back, the Mandalorian had shackled my wrists to a cargo ring above my head. I twisted and hip checked him, swinging my leg out and connecting my heel with the side of his thigh. I heard him grunt and stumble.

Snarling, I balled my hands into fists, intending to pop the restraints here like I had in that hole of a lab on Navarro. But the bounty hunter, faster than I gave him credit for in all that beskar, wrapped one of his hands in my braid and yanked, the other coming around and pressing his discarded shiv to my neck.

“Yield, Israa.” He had me, and we both knew it, but my self control was long since gone.

Metal creaked somewhere above us and I felt the manacles shift as the bulkhead started to buckle; I had every intention of bringing the durasteel I beam down into the Mandalorian's skull. I felt his head snap up and his grip loosen slightly on my braid, not that his sudden realization of danger would help him.

“Israa!” He shouted at the same moment Munchkin's high pitched wail reached my ears, the little guy basically screaming _Mama!!_ through the Force, terrified.

Immediately, I released the built up pressure around us, letting it dissipate back to where I'd pulled it from, and went slack against the manacles. I could feel tears pushing against my closed eyelids, but I had to keep this together long enough to calm Munchkin down.

I took deep, intentional breaths, trying to ignore the ringing in my ears.

“Shit,” Din muttered. I heard something clatter to the floor; it was probably the shiv. Focus, Israa. Breathe. “The hyperspace timer...”

“Let me down, I've got him,” I managed shakily. The binders clicked loose and we were both moving to our respective tasks before they hit the floor.

Munchkin was still asleep, but very definitely distressed; I couldn't recall ever seeing so much fear wash through him. I scooped him up and tucked him against my chest. “Shhh, little one. I'm here. Hush now, you're safe.”

I eased down onto the bunk, pressing my back to one wall and my feet up against the other. I held Munchkin tight until he settled, then laid him back against the shelf my knees created. Scrubbing my hands against my face, I let my head thunk solidly against the wall behind me, hardly cognizant of the tears sliding along my tendrils to drip onto my robes.

I'd just put the only two people alive that I cared about in mortal danger. Twice in less than a day. This was unacceptable – I had better control of myself and my gifts than this. Din was right, I had made a critical error on Trask, and I'd gotten overconfident here. I was doing all of us a disservice by trying to keep on as if I could still see.

He was standing just out of reach; I could feel his discomfort and anger rolling off him in waves, battering up against fractured walls I'd worked a lifetime to build. I owed this man my life. The least I could do was offer an apology for my inordinate amounts of stupidity.

“I owe you an apology,” I croaked, voice thick with barely in check emotions. “I don't expect you to accept it, even if I said it in every language I know. What I did on Trask and just now was unforgivably stupid; I should never have put you in those positions.”

“You're right, you shouldn't have.” Well, I could always count on him to be blunt. “Don't do it again.”

~~*~~


	20. Chapter 20

“Well, if he ever runs off on you again, let me know.” I snorted softly; Din had used his Bounty Hunter voice specifically to get a rise out of ... whatever was sitting behind the desk. It wasn't a species I was familiar with, but that honestly wasn't so much of a surprise after so long on ice. After all, even the Voss were newly discovered at one time.

“Let me assure you, I don't want to spend any more time in carbonite.” Well, it was definitely a 'he' from what I could hear, and Din had him scared witless. “I still can't see out of my left eye.”

“Uncalled for, Mythrol.” I could almost hear Cara rolling her eyes. “Can we talk business?” She pointedly took me by the elbow and led me to a seat; Din snickered through my micro-comm. I let Cara help me get settled, as much to get one last dig in at Mythrol as because I was still dealing with an emotional hangover.

“We're only here for repairs,” Din insisted. I got the impression it was more of a token effort; I knew he felt guilty even asking for their help.

“Which are going to take a while,” Karga pointed out. He came around what I assumed to be Cara's desk and kissed my cheeks in greeting, having been thoroughly enraptured with Munchkin on arrival. “How are you, my dear? Its good to see you up and about.”

I smiled and murmured something meaningless, Karga already turning back to Cara and Din. “Look, Mando, we could really use your help.”

There was a tug in his words that made me tune out most of the briefing, instead turning my attention inward and listening. I could almost hear familiar voices – Lana, Arcann, others. They were pulling me towards something that had echoes of pain. Pride and fear, as well. _Go with them._

“Sunda?” I breathed, my head snapping up and turning toward the edge of town. _Go with them, Israa._

“Israa, you're going to need to st -” I cut Din off before he could finish, turning to the group instead of facing the wall.

“No, I'm going.”

“Israa.” I could feel him trying his best to be overly patient with me. “You can't -”

“Don't presume to tell me what I can and can't do,” I snapped. Unintentionally, but still. Not a good thing to tell any woman with combat experience, let alone Force sensitivity. I could feel Cara and Karga exchanging A Look, but they had the sense to stay quiet. “I'm going.”

“Don't argue it,” Cara said after a moment. Something must have clicked for her, there was a sense of cautious understanding from where she was. “If she says she's coming, she's coming.”

Din sighed. “Fine. Let's go.”

~~*~~

“There's only the one,” Karga hissed. We'd made it into the garrison without much issue, and the pull I'd felt in town was stronger here. Whatever this was, it wasn't a forward operating base.

“I've got this,” Cara whispered, and started forward. I vaguely heard Din stop her, having already focused on the officer, my hand slightly lifted. She started to argue with him, then the sounds of choking became clearer.

Given that we were planning on vaporizing the base, I did the man a small mercy and closed my fist, snapping his neck and leaving him dangling bonelessly over his chair. I felt the rest of the group move past me into the command center; I'd already turned back to the hall, following the pull in the Force.

“Israa?” Din's hand brushed the small of my back. I started, mostly lost in the half visions I was seeing, but offered him an attempt at a reassuring smile.

“I'm alright.” I sort of caught the tilt of his head; between the emotional hangover and the Force being insistent, it was nigh impossible for me to pick up on the smaller movements he made. “I promise, I'm alright. There's just … there's something here.”

“Like?” His guard was up, already trying to reformulate the plan to account for a potential problem.

“I don't know.” I shook my head, trying to clear it enough to be able to focus on something. Anything. “Don't worry about it; we're here for a reason.”

~~*~~

“How long do we have?” Cara, ever the soldier, sounded amazingly calm for all that we'd just set the base to explode.

“Ten minutes, at most.” Karga, on the other hand, sounded slightly worried and out of breath. To be fair, Din had set a rather stiff pace for this mission. “Come on.”

“No, this way,” I said softly, already turning left as they moved to the right. Whether they followed or not was on them. The disturbance I was chasing was stronger now, pulling me toward the heart of the garrison instead of the exit.

I heard voices and felt flickers of panic in front of me as I rounded the corner. I picked up the scientists and threw them with an inattentive flick of my hand; my focus was fully on the wall of medical tanks and the bodies that filled them. The room practically stank of fear and pain.

Lana's and Sunda's voices were getting stronger in my head, what vision I had blanking white as I touched the glass.

“Commander.” My head whipped around and I saw Lana standing next to me, looking much the same as she always had in her gray armor.

“Israa.” Sunda's voice on my other side, and there he was, all blue eyes, gray and charcoal fur, black armor. I soaked in the sight of them – this was a gift, seeing them as I had before, even knowing that this wasn't just a visit.

“We were right, Lana,” I murmured. “Valkorian...”

“Yes, we were.” She looked so sad, but determined as always. “I'm sorry I'm not there to fight him with you. That none of us could be.” Other figures solidified around us as she spoke: Arcann, Satele, Marr, Senya, Sana Rae, Theron. Vaylin.

“We knew that when we started this,” I said. Sunda moved close behind me, his hands settling warm and familiar on my shoulders. “Don't apologize for being where you needed to be.”

“You have to find the volunteer.” Theron wasn't as solid as the others; he looked and sounded more ghostly. Given that Sana Rae was standing directly behind him, I figured it was a safe bet that she was the reason he was even present at all. “If you find the volunteer, you can buy yourself more time.”

“My father has allies, even now,” Arcann rumbled. “They will find you, and the child, but only if you give them the chance. Gideon is not the only one.”

“Of course he isn't,” I muttered. I leaned back against Sunda, searing the feeling of him into my soul. “These bodies had to have come from somewhere.”

“Slaves are the test subjects no one will miss.” Senya looked bitter.

“Clones as well.” That was Satele. “Follow the threads for the Grand Army of the Republic.”

Marr nodded his agreement. “Twisted with your blood, the youngling's, and Sith Alchemy. Even now, the Hand's work is clear.”

“We cannot stay, Commander.” Lana bowed as the group started to step away and fade. “But know that we are with you in spirit.”

Vaylin was the last of the group to leave, still clear and solid when the others had finally faded away. “You more than most know what my father is capable of, Outlander,” she said. “Do not let him do to this child what he did to me.”

“You have my word on it, Vaylin,” I replied. “He will not get the chance.” She nodded once and faded.

“Israa.” Sunda gently turned me to face him. “When you leave Corvus, give the Mandalorian your lightsabers to carry. You'll understand why.”

I frowned – Sunda was not one to be cryptic, but he had never led me wrong. “Alright,” I murmured, looking up to meet his eyes. I allowed myself a moment of nostalgia and did my best to burn his face into my memory. He'd never been one to show emotion, but I could see him doing much the same before he pulled me tight to his chest.

“We knew what we had, Israa'neryn,” he rumbled softly, and then he was gone.

~~*~~


	21. Chapter 21

I came back to reality just in time to block a blaster bolt with my lightsaber. The room was thick with anxiety and fear, and I was able to focus on Din just as he finished speaking.

“... get the kid.”

“Jet back; you'll be faster that way.” Cara was already shoving Mythrol towards the next corridor, and I moved to follow. “We'll get back to the speeder and meet you in town.”

Din nodded and then caught on to my movements. “Israa, what are you doing? Let's go.”

“No,” I said, igniting my other lightsaber. “I'd just slow you down; go get him. I'll be fine.” I could feel Mythrol goggling at me as Cara continued to shove.

“Israa -”

“Go!” I ordered and turned to sprint after Cara.

“ _K'oyacyi,_ Israa.”

~~*~~

It didn't take long for the stormtroopers to converge on the four of us. To be completely honest, I was glad of it – it meant less resistance for Din on his run for Munchkin, and it gave me the chance to burn off a little steam, leaving the halls behind us littered with bodies.

Not that these idiots could actually hit anything. Had marksmanship standards really gotten so low?

I ignored the bickering from Mythrol and Karga while we waited for the hangar door to open, rolling my shoulders and flipping my lightsabers in my hands. I could feel danger moving up from below, though it was even money on whether it was more troopers or lava. As the door finally slid upward, I strode forward into the empty hangar, Cara and the rest close behind.

We'd almost made it to the lift when it's door slid open.

“Down!” I commanded, stormtroopers spilling out and immediately firing. Cara dropped, dragging Mythrol with her, Karga a half second behind. I could hear Mythrol whimpering over the hum of my weapons as I blocked blaster fire.

“We're trapped,” he whined. Honestly, the man had probably wet himself by now. What had Karga been thinking, dragging him along?

“We're not.” I sent a blaster bolt back at a trooper, smiling in satisfaction as I watched the body fall. “Cara?”

“On it. Cover me!”

We moved in tandem, Cara straight for the tank, me between her and incoming fire. I heard the engines roar to life and Cara shout. One last bolt went through a trooper's visor, then I turned and sprinted as Cara put the tank in gear.

There was a rough jolt, a moment of inertia as I pulled the door closed behind me, then the tank was spinning around to face the cliff. I caught on to Cara's plan a moment before the boys did and scrambled to strap myself into one of the jump seats as she gunned the engines.

Cara and I both let out a whoop as the tank sailed over the edge, Karga and Mythrol screaming the whole way down. We landed hard and Cara didn't even give them a moment to breathe before we were moving again.

I let my head fall back against the seat, closed my eyes and just … took a minute. I was starting to feel a little strung out, the adrenaline high from combat beginning to fade and the remnants of my vision tugging like tiny claws at the edges of my mind. The fact that I was picking up on the emotional state of everyone else in the tank didn't help any.

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion,” I murmured. I needed the mantra of the Code to give me focus, because gods only knew I wasn't going to be able to do it with anything else. “Through passion I gain strength, through strength I gain vict – Cara, take evasive!”

And bless her, she did, jerking the tank in a zig-zag pattern through what was left of the canyon as the horribly familiar sound of a TIE fighter wing crept up behind us.

This was fine. Totally fine. Great, even. It was just a wing of TIEs, no big deal, we totally had this. I had this. I yanked the seat belts free and stumbled forward as an impact jolted the tank. Gripping the back of Cara's seat, I focused in on the remaining TIEs. I could feel her anxiety, Mythrol's abject terror, Karga's miasma of … I don't even know.

I tracked the center TIE as it screamed ahead, preparing to turn and hit us in a strafing run. I took a breath and reached deep within myself, summoning great handfuls of fear and stress to hurl at the soon to be oncoming TIEs. Closer, just a little more, come on...

And then the center TIE exploded before I could actually do anything.

I sagged in relief against Cara's shoulders as the _Crest_ roared through the falling shrapnel cloud, waves of relief rolling through all of us as Din peeled off after another fighter. She reached up and squeezed my arm in understanding.

We skidded to a halt just outside town, the boys immediately tumbling out with binocs in hand. Cara was kind enough to help me onto the roof of the tank before tracking the _Crest_ with a pair of her own. I stretched out, gently, only to be hit with absolute _glee_ from Munchkin; there was no other word to describe what smacked me in the face from him. Din was wholly concentrated on flying, and I wasn't about to distract him.

The noise more than the sense of the pilot dying as another TIE exploded dropped me back into myself abruptly. A few minutes later, the last one followed in a spectacular fashion, if the whoops and hollers around me were an indication. Karga was saying something to Din over a comlink, but it was Cara who got my full attention by taking both my elbows and turning me to face her.

“He's a good man; you keep hold of him, you hear?” Cara's usual vibrant teal was suffused with the warmer tones of affection. She snorted when I gave her a confused look. “Don't give me that, I've seen how you two are together. You orbit each other like a planet and it's moon. He's got your back, Israa. Make sure you have his.”

I smiled and pulled her into a tight hug as the _Crest_ filled the airspace at the end of the tank. I heard the ramp hydraulics whine as it dropped and settled into the open position, then turned and sprinted full out to make the jump into the hold.

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking I need to start a companion piece for this from other characters' points of view. Thoughts?


	22. Chapter 22

“Did you hear that?” Din's voice and the sound of a branch snapping pulled me from my thoughts. I closed the gap I'd maintained between us while walking, using my body to create a second protective wall around Munchkin once he was set on the boulder. It would be safer for him there than in the sling if we were ambushed; there was so much death in the area we were in I had a hard time keeping track of my surroundings.

_Danger, Israa'neryn._

“Huh... false ala--” I shoved Din out of the way before he could finish, bringing my offhand blade up to block the two brilliantly silver ones that had been descending on his back.

One of the lightsabers was pulled back, which gave me just enough time to pull and ignite my other blade before I had to block again. I took a half step back, hoping to be able to settle into a more solid stance, but my assailant continued to rain blow after blow on me. Each one came faster than the last, so I wasn't afforded a chance to actually get a _look_ at them.

I had to keep giving ground – it was the only way I could keep up and not strike back. Everything I'd gathered about the recent past told me that anyone who could actually use a lightsaber with any effectiveness (and this person certainly fit that profile) would be few and far between. So chances were good that this was our Jedi.

Another step back, then another and another. I shrieked as my heel caught on what was probably a tree root and I fell, landing hard enough to knock the breath from me and drive a rock into the muscle between shoulder blade and spine. My lightsabers, unsurprisingly, went spinning off into the gloom somewhere to either side of me. I struggled to suck in a breath as Din stepped over me in a protective stance.

“Ahsoka Tano!” Was... was that _fear_ I heard in his voice? “Bo Katan sent us!” There was a long moment of silence, filled only with the hum of lightsabers and my ragged gulps of air before Din continued. “We need to talk.”

More silence, then the familiar hiss of blades being extinguished. I watched Din slowly straighten above me. Then, the soft voice of a woman and cooing from Munchkin.

“I hope it's about him.”

~~*~~

I sighed as Din paced past my chosen seat for the umpteenth time. He was radiating Nervous Dad, which I completely understood since Ahsoka was sitting off a ways with Munchkin. It had taken effort, but I'd managed to shove down my own disquiet about leaving him alone with her. He needed this, needed to be taught by someone with a healthier relationship with the Force than I. If you could call the Jedi's fixation with the light side healthy.

Din turned and paced past me again, and I growled under my breath as I stood and stalked off into the dead woods. I heard his pacing falter, and then his footsteps caught up with me.

“Israa, what are you doing?” I couldn't tell if he was exasperated or genuinely concerned – there was too much interference from, well, everything. One. Both. Ugh.

“I have to find my lightsabers,” I ground out, trying my absolute hardest to not snap at him. “And everyone is thinking far too loudly for me to stay that close. Or still.” His steps faltered for a moment and I could feel the wave of confusion off him while he tried to process what I'd just said. I just shook my head and kept walking, trying to ignore the tingling numbness in my arm.

The small bit of distance quieted some of the noise in my head, which frankly, was a huge relief. Din's low level freak out I could handle, but add Ahsoka and Munchkin actively conversing loud enough that I had to _really_ try not to listen... ngh. I rubbed my not-numb hand over my face, then reached out and called my lightsabers to me.

Only to drop one as soon as it landed in my palm. Shit.

“Here.” Beskar clinked softly as Din knelt and retrieved my weapon. I nodded my thanks and replaced it on my belt, albeit a bit awkwardly since I was doing it with the wrong hand. “Not like you to drop those. You alright?”

“Fine,” I responded, maybe a little tightly. “Just landed on a rock when Ahsoka dropped me. I'll get feeling back in my arm in a little while.”

“Come here.” I could almost hear the frown in his voice. I grudgingly let him lead me back to my prior seat and peel back the outer layers of my armor. “Let me see how bad it is.”

“It's nothing; didn't even break skin,” I grumbled. Gods, his hands were warm across my back; when he had removed his gloves I'd never guess, and it made it hard to fight the desire to melt back into them. I still wasn't sure where we stood after our … disagreement. “I'll be fine by tomorrow.”

“Israa, your entire arm is numb.” Again with that flat tone. I looked over and saw his finger tapping against my bicep, but I sure as hell couldn't feel it. “That's not 'nothing'. Even if you're lucky enough to avoid nerve damage, that's going to be one hell of a bruise.”

I jumped at the sensation of cold gel sliding over my skin. It shouldn't have surprised me that he kept a tube of emergency kolto – errr, bacta – on him. I closed my eyes as he worked the gel down my arm, consciously holding very still instead of relaxing into his touch like I wanted to. It was slow, but the numbness started to fade.

“ _Jorhaa'ir bah ni,_ Israa,” Din murmured. I bit my lip to keep from snorting; he wanted me to talk to him. “You're not acting like yourself, _cyare_.”

“Funny you should say that, since that's basically what started things,” I answered wryly. I was, however, saved from having to explain myself as Ahsoka and Munchkin joined us. I stayed where I was, replacing my armor while Ahsoka handed the wee one off to Din. I could feel her eyes on me, her mind dancing along the outer edges of my own. It wasn't a conscious act on her part, and I held no assumptions about her skills had she chosen to push, so I let it go.

They were thinking loudly at each other again as Din settled onto a stump; I had to look away and bring up another set of walls to block them out. Their conversation wasn't for my ears, so to speak.

“You... understand him? Like she does?” Din's question brought Ahsoka's attention to bear on me again. I glanced at her for a moment, all shimmering silver-white, threaded through with a deep blue-black to match my lightsabers. Life had been hard for this woman, and she carried the scars soul deep.

“In a way.” She pressed against my shields a bit, and I watched her montrals shift as she cocked her head. “We can … feel each other's thoughts. Why do you shut Grogu out, Israa?”

“Grogu?” Din questioned, and I heard the baby coo at the sound of his name.

“It's his name,” I answered, before Ahsoka could. I ducked my head before I spoke again. “Because I don't want to risk … _tainting_ him. I know well what I am.”

I could feel all three of them staring at me: Din was confused, Grogu felt crushed, like he was afraid he'd disappointed me (oh, sweetling, you could never), but Ahsoka...

All I got off Ahsoka was compassion and understanding.

“You don't give yourself enough credit,” she said softly. Grogu crawled out of Din's lap and into mine when I scoffed. “Yes, you carry the dark with you, but you also carry more light than you think. You would give everything to protect your own – no one truly steeped in the Dark Side would do so.”

~~*~~

I kept my distance as Din and Ahsoka went about whatever 'tests' she had in mind for Munchkin – Grogu. It was hard enough for me to watch; I didn't want to be actively involved in what led to him leaving us.

“ _I've been quested to deliver both of them to the Jedi.”_ Din's statement to Bo Katan floated through my mind. Had I not heard the weight of truth behind the words at the time, I would have thought it was a ploy. Ultimately, it didn't matter. Not after … well. I shook my head, eyes closed. It didn't matter.

Din's frustration with the little one was easy to feel, even from where I sat against a large stump. So was his pride when Grogu completed whatever the task was, and the flash of anger at Ahsoka almost immediately after. I sighed and pushed myself upright, moving to join them.

“... attachment to you and Israa makes him vulnerable to his fears. His anger,” Ahsoka was saying. With a surprising amount of emphasis, too, even for a Jedi.

“All the more reason to train him!” I felt Din's temper rising. Lovely.

“No.” Even more emphatic. Interesting. She took a half step back, making room to include me in the conversation. “I've seen what such feelings can do to a fully trained Jedi Knight. To the best of us.”

There was so much pain – _anguish_ – behind her words. The deepest of her scars pulsed and writhed for a moment before Ahsoka was able to bring herself back under control. The sight tugged at something half-remembered.

“He needs time with you and Israa to learn to accept and process those emotions. I cannot teach him; it would start him down a path that -” she cut herself off abruptly, then stepped back and away. That same scar had widened, if only slightly. What would have caused her such trauma? “I've delayed too long. I must get back to the village.”

Wait, time with...

“The magistrate sent me to kill you.” I jerked my head around to face Din so fast I could swear I heard something in my neck pop.

I heard Ahsoka turn toward us dangerously slowly; waves of betrayal, disappointment, and suppressed anger rippling through her. When I had placed myself between her and Din, or drawn a lightsaber, Force only knew.

“I didn't agree to anything.”

~~*~~


	23. Chapter 23

Cloaked in shadow, I waited for Ahsoka to finish taunting the magistrate. Unsurprisingly, it didn't take much, and I relaxed slightly when the HK models were sent along with the merc. Elsbeth gave the execution orders, haughtily retreated to her personal fortress, and then Din was rocket kicking the gate guards into the dirt.

It only took a moment of careful focus for me to find the power junctions in each electro-cage and crush them. We had the prisoners down before the pilings stopped sparking, and just as I finished ushering them inside someone's home, Din's voice came through my micro-comm.

“Phase two.” I tapped twice on the earpiece, then melted into the shadow of a building.

There were whispers in my head that told me our mercenary was not the only danger outside the fortress. I half listened to the poor sod attempt to banter with Din, and instead followed the vague tugs through the Force. Eventually, I caught the soft whir and clank of a droid from somewhere on the rooftops above me. I smirked, then stretched out.

“I got no quarrel with you, Mandalorian,” the merc was saying as I stepped out into the broad avenue, both lightsabers humming softly in my hands. The idiot was slowly advancing on Din.

“That's far enough.” His tone made it clear that it wasn't a suggestion, and I took the opportunity to underscore it with the loud crunching of metal and plastics by crushing the last HK unit hovering in front of me. The merc spun, and I gave him a soft, predatory smile as I dropped the tightly crumpled ball of droid. He may have been able to save face in front of Din, but his state of panic was laid bare before me.

The quiet stretched, the only sounds those of Ahsoka and Elsbeth fighting beyond the inner wall. I watched the gears turn as this merc tried to strategize his way out of the situation, my smile in place the entire time. It only deepened when I heard him take a breath to speak.

“I'm not the one you should be negotiating with,” I purred, all honeyed malice. I got a small flicker of satisfaction from the spike of terror that lit him up as he turned back to Din. Panic and desperation flickered through him like flames, then the sound of a beskar spear hitting the ground shattered the tension.

He was dead before I could bring my blades up and close the gap; a smoking crater in the excuse for a chestplate. I heard Din holster his pistol and I shut off my blades.

“The droid was a nice touch, _cyare_ ,” he said. He moved into my space and I took a half step back. It made him pause, confusion swirling through him. How was I possibly supposed to explain how much the endearment stung when I knew he was just going to leave me here?

“Glad you approve.” I took a heartbeat to cram my hurt into a little box in my mind. “I'll go back to the _Crest_ , check on Grogu.”

“Israa, wha-” he started and reached for me.

“It's fine,” I said as I took another step back. My smile felt forced. “I don't need to be here for the adulation; I'd probably just scare the kids. You and Ahsoka deserve this.”

I didn't give him a chance to respond.

~~*~~

Taking down my hammock was a lot harder when I couldn't see.

Grogu was still asleep, and rather than risk waking him with the amount of emotional bantha shit I had, I'd pulled into myself and thrown up extra mental walls to the point where I was truly blind. So, I'd stumbled around the hold, packing things up by feel until the only things left were mine and Grogu's hammocks.

I struggled with the knots for a solid two minutes, then forced myself to stop. This would get me nowhere, and Grogu was going to need me to be at least semi-functional once Din left. This would be traumatic enough for him, I didn't want to make it worse.

I eased off on my mental leash just enough to be able to make out where he was in his hammock. Reassured that he was still deeply asleep, I clipped my lightsabers to my belt, stepped out into what was left of the forest, and started walking.

I walked until the sounds of celebration faded into the crunch of ash and leaf litter, until I couldn't see the rich gold glow of the _Crest_ through the trees. I kept going until I was reasonably sure that when I let go, the only person I'd be putting at risk was myself.

I finally came to a stop in a sort of henge, boulders as tall as a walker strewn in a half circle wide enough to land the _Crest_ in. I pressed one palm flat against the one nearest to me and let the quiet reign for a moment.

There was a deep, bone-shaking _crack_ as my fist came down next to my other hand, the rock splitting under the release of my emotions through the Force. I let my head hang, face screwed up in a silent scream, and brought my fist down against the boulder again. And again.

I dropped to my knees, oblivious to the ash that billowed up around me. I could feel it settling on my skin, my armor, in my hair as a I sobbed, a fine, slick coating of Corvus' grief to match my own. It took a long, long time for me to stop the tears. I heard Din coming well before he spoke.

“ _Me'ven...?_ _Cyare, me'bana olar?_ ” He was concerned, I could hear that, but it was threaded with awe and a touch of fear.

I scoffed, rising to my feet with one blade lit and in hand before I turned to face him. “What happened here?” I translated, voice dark and thick from pain. Anger. At myself, at him, and the sick humor of the universe to offer me so much only to snatch it away. “ _ **I**_ happened here. How could you call me 'beloved' and plan to leave me here in the same breath?”

“ _Cyare,_ ” he said, slowly reaching up and behind him for the beskar staff I knew to have been his promised payment for killing Ahsoka. She must have given it to him, Elsbeth no longer being part of the equation.

“How could you?!” I shrieked, and launched myself at him.

He was fast enough to dodge my first blow, but not enough to do more than block my second. At this point, I had my other lightsaber in hand, alternating attacks with each one. Din's flash of shock barely registered.

He got in a lucky shot, the end of the staff connecting with the back of my knee and half dropping me before I could completely recover. One of my hands shot out and I slung a downed sapling at him, flinging myself back to my feet in the same breath. Din was forced to turn away from me to bat the sapling away with the staff, which gave me the chance to close the gap between us.

I brought the pommel of my main hand blade down onto his helmet where the visor met beskar at his temple, with all the force my body could muster and then some. The blow staggered him and caused him to loosen his grip on the spear enough for me to yank it away with the Force, tossing it somewhere behind me. I screamed, a wordless expression of heartbreak, and got some small flicker of satisfaction as the wave of sound brought Din to his knees.

I stood over him, blades still lit, the burning anger subsiding into a deep well of grief.

“ _Ni kar'taylir darasuum, Israa'neryn,_ ” he panted, one hand held up in a plea. “I'd never leave you behind.”

~~*~~


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, the feels....

I avoided Din to the best of my ability for the first day or so in hyperspace. Or, well, I _tried_ to, but Grogu apparently was onto us, because every time one of us left the other for more than three minutes, he started to tantrum and wouldn't stop until we were all in the same room again. It finally took me chasing him around the hold for a solid hour before he was too tired to to keep throwing fits.

I tucked him into his hammock with a sigh, then retrieved my comb. It had been a fair bit of time since I'd last let my hair loose of it's braids, and it needed the care. The act also served as a form of meditation, as it required me to focus on what I was doing.

I was halfway through undoing the first braid when I felt Din's hands cover mine. He settled on the crate behind me without a word, bare fingers moving through my hair. I didn't resist when he tugged the comb from my hand.

He took his time, much as he had after Korriban, and when he had finished, he pressed his forehead to the back of my skull. No helmet to be found – I could feel the tip of his nose poking into my hair. We sat like that for a time, until he oh so hesitantly wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back against him.

No beskar'gam, no gambeson, no greaves. Just a soft, loosely fitted shirt and pants; as open and vulnerable as a Mandalorian could ever get.

I wanted to stay mad at him, at myself, but I also understood what he was offering, coming to me unarmed and unarmored. I closed my eyes and let myself relax into him. Din tucked his legs up and curled himself around me, his face coming to rest in the curve of my neck, my cheek pressed to his hair. We stayed silently tangled up in each other until the last of the tension faded from my shoulders.

“When I came back to the _Crest_ and you weren't here, I felt like I'd been spaced.” Din's voice was barely more than a whisper against my shoulder. “You are everything, _ni kar'ta._ I needed Kryze to believe you worthless to her; the mission parameters for finding the Jedi were never meant for you.”

I squeezed my eyes tight against the welling tears. He pressed the gentlest of kisses against my neck before continuing, his entire body still wrapped around mine. “Before we escaped Gideon, the Armorer asked me if you were truly blind. I told her what you told me: colors and shapes, no details.”

I could feel him searching for the words he wanted when he paused, and I lightly squeezed his fingers: I hear you, I'm listening.

“We wear the helmets because anonymity is our safety and infamy is our weapon, but within the _manda_ – the … the collective soul, we need neither. She told me that's what you see: you see me here as I would be seen in the _manda_. And that if I chose to, _cyare, ni kar'ta_ , I had her blessing to reveal myself to you as one would in _riduurok_. Because I was meant to find you.”

Din straightened enough to turn me to face him and brushed his hands over my face before he brought mine up to his. “ _Ni ceta, Israa'neryn. Ni getetir di'dunar, cyare kar'ta._ ”

_I'm kneeling, Israa'neryn. I beg your forgiveness, beloved heart._

I curled my fingers around either side of his face and stretched up so I could press my forehead to his. “ _Ni kar'taylir darasuum, Din Djarin_ ,” I whispered. “I forgive you.”

~~*~~


	25. Chapter 25

_Ziost. Why am I on Ziost?_

_I look around, taking in the bustling central square of New Adasta, vibrant and so very different from how I remember it._

_I can hear children laughing and throwing coins into the fountain from where I'm standing. One sounds like Grogu, but I can't see him, can't be sure._

_A cold wind tugs at my braid. A young man near me on the tower steps freezes, brings his hands to his temples. My breath catches – I have to find Grogu._

_A child's laughter turns to frightened cries as more people start holding their heads. I can feel more than hear Vitiate start to chuckle._

_I push past people, trying to get to the fountain, to my son. We have to leave, now, but the stairs lengthen and the crowd thickens._

_Valkorian's laughter grows as the wind does, a deep, keening whine rushing toward us that I can feel in every joint. Grogu's cries increase in need and pitch._

_I can see the destruction coming as I finally free myself from the crowd. Grogu is nowhere to be seen. Where is my son, you bastard?_

_My sweet gremlin child is screaming, terrified. I search everywhere, frantic, but I can't find him, the wind now yanking at my hair, ash making my eyes sting. Tenebrae's voice drowns out everything as the destruction begins to overtake me: “You are still so very special to me, my dear Wrath. That is why I will kill you last.”_

_I stumble and fall, hands stinging from the impact, blinded by the ashes of the dying planet._

_WHERE IS MY SON?!_

I woke violently to the sounds of my hand connecting with metal sheeting, Grogu's cries, and Tenebrae's fading but all too real laughter.

I slammed wall after mental wall into place and scrambled over Din's legs to pull Grogu from his hammock. Oddly, bringing up my shields had only served to make Grogu cry harder. It didn't help that Din shot upright a moment later, a shiv I didn't even know he had in the bunk buzzing in his hand.

Kriff.

I tucked Grogu firmly against my chest and made soft shushing noises as I grabbed Din's wrist and dropped my shields, reaching far back into my memories for something even vaguely soothing. I had to push through Grogu fixating on the nightmare, but soon enough I found something that would work and forcibly projected the memory's feeling to my boys.

“ _Mama!!!” I sobbed, frightened. Thunder rattles the windows of my room.“Mama!!!!”_

_My mother settles on the bed next to me a moment later, wiping away my tears and gathering me into her lap. Wrapped snugly in her arms, my tears start to fade and I can hear her singing my favorite lullaby._

_Mama's hand smooths over my hair as she starts to sing nonsense in the same tune, always, always in our native tongue, never Basic. My tears stop, the fear fades away, and I drift back to sleep in her embrace._

Grogu was asleep again when I came back to myself. My shoulders dropped in relief and I let go of Din, slouching back against the wall in exhaustion. Now that they were calm, I was able to take a moment and bring my breathing back under control. If Tenebrae was strong enough to trigger a nightmare, then I didn't have quite as much time as I would have hoped.

I was vaguely aware of Din shuffling around as he put the shiv back wherever it had come from; I was still trying to bring my thoughts back in line. I relaxed, more than a little, honestly, when he gathered me up against him, Grogu snugly bunched up on my chest. I caught a fleeting sense of confusion, but it was quickly replaced with concern and a desire to protect his own.

“I didn't know you could sing,” he rumbled.

“I... what? I wasn't singing.” I twisted my head up to squint at him. “Was I?”

I felt him nod and he roughly hummed a few notes. I blinked, completely floored. That was... how did he... well, of course he would have heard it, if I'd been singing, but...

I shook myself a little and cleared my throat. “Oh. Uh. My mother used to sing that to me. When I was little.” My voice caught on the words.

“I know.” Din hugged me a little tighter. “Your mother had a beautiful voice, too.”

“Yeah, she di...” I trailed off as my brain caught up with what he'd said. How could he possibly... “Din, how do you know that?”

I felt him still under me, could almost hear the gears turning in his head while he tried to figure out what to say. I lightly brushed my fingers over his bare chest, giving him all the time he could need. I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

“I think,” he started slowly, “that I saw some of your memories. When you were … doing whatever you were doing. To calm everyone down.”

Well... that had the potential to be very unpleasant. Shit.

I took a sort of steadying breath and nodded, then moved to put Grogu back in his hammock. This was, uh, not _exactly_ the kind of conversation I wanted to have while cradling a child in my lap. Especially once who was Force sensitive and prone to shoving through my mental barriers without trying.

“Okay...” I settled gingerly into the corner of the bunk, facing Din, and took his hands in mine. “Tell me what you saw.”

“There was a city square? I could hear him screaming.” Din jerked his head toward our sleeping gremlin. “Ash, and wind... a blonde woman? A Cathar – was that Sunda? He looked like what you described.”

I nodded, then remembered that in the dark, Din couldn't see me. I pulled on his hands, letting him settle against me; I'd seen the apprehension rippling through him. “Yes, that was Sunda. The blonde woman was Lana – she was a dear friend.”

He made a noise of acknowledgment as he slipped one arm around my waist. “Someone said something about the volunteer?”

“Theron. Another close friend.” Okay, so snatches of my nightmare, and the vision at the garrison. Manageable.

“Mmh.” It was a long moment before he continued. “There were little bits of things... fighting, a cave collapsing.” He stopped for a beat, shuddering. “The most terror inducing laughter I've ever heard. Felt. Both. And then your mother.”

Oh. Great. Fantastic. He'd heard Tenebrae. _Felt_ Tenebrae. That was just … fucking wonderful.

I tightened my arms around his shoulder in a hug. The conversation we needed to have now was going to be all kinds of interesting. “Did you see anything else, _cyare?_ ”

“No... I don't know what you did, but once your mother came into focus, that's all I could see.” His arm tightened around my waist and I hummed quietly. He relaxed in increments in my lap, the soft melody of the lullaby luring him towards something resembling peace, if not sleep. If I was really, really lucky, I'd be able to have the rest of the night to figure out how to explain Tenebrae.

“Israa.” Din's voice was far to clear to be anywhere near sleep. “Who was laughing?”

Fuck.

I sighed and nudged him lightly to get up. “Come on. We're going to need caff for this conversation. At minimum.”

~~*~~


	26. Chapter 26

By comparison to the bunk, the rest of the ship was cold, the chill raising goosebumps on my exposed arms and shins. I almost went to throw on my robes over the fitted tank and cropped leggings, but the newly found urgency of the situation surrounding _why_ I was even here stopped me. Caff would be delay enough.

Din took mercy on my fumbling efforts and sat me down on my usual crate, pressing a cup of blessed dirty bean water into my hands a few minutes later. He settled next to me, tucked up close, likely as much for the physical comfort of touch as for shared body heat.

I clung to the warm mug in my hands for, well, longer than I cared to admit while I chewed on how to explain things. To his credit, Din didn't press me, instead just sipped at his own caff while he waited. Finally, I found what I hoped was a good place to start.

“His name is...” I stopped and frowned. “Well, he's got lots of them, probably far more than the three I know about.” I felt Din's full attention land on me. “Tenebrae. Vitiate. Valkorian. Those were all names we knew him as, at various times. He was all of them, individually and all at once. The threat that he is was the same, regardless. I personally killed him. Twice.”

“And yet, you speak as if he is still alive.”

“Mmmh.” I nodded and sipped my caff. “He is. And isn't. It's...ugh.” I sort of sagged into myself for a minute. “He, to the best of my knowledge, exists solely within the Force. At the moment.”

“At the moment?” I could hear the suppressed incredulity. “What do you mean, 'at the moment'?”

“Well...” I squirmed. How was I supposed to explain something that I barely understood myself, to someone that had only the most basic understanding of the Force even existing? “It's...complicated. Really, really complicated. The simplest way I can explain it – and no, I'm not trying to insult you, _cyare_ -” I'd felt him bristle. “ _I_ barely understand how it works, aside from knowing that it does.”

“That _what_ works, Israa?” Oh, good. There was the irritation. I'd not completely terrified him. Yet.

“Okay, hold on to that feeling of irritation, Din.” I felt him give me A Look. “No, really, darling. This is … gonna be a ride, and you're going to want to have that to ground you. Trust me.”

“Israa...”

“Please?” Even to my ears, the plea sounded weak. He just _stared_ at me for several heartbeats, then sighed in acquiescence. Okay. A starting point. Right. Something he would have even a faint frame of reference fo... Oh! Perfect.

“Do you remember what you asked me after we left Korriban?” An explanation of Satele and Marr was the easiest to start with. He'd actually _seen_ them.

“I asked you a lot of things after Korriban, _ni kar'ta._ ”

“Alright, fair.” I ceded the point with a mock salute of my mug. “But, specifically, you asked me about who was in the Academy with me.”

“I remember.” He was making the Get On With It face, I could tell by his voice.

“I still can't believe they let you see them,” I muttered, momentarily sidetracked. I jerked a bit when Din made a grumpy sort of noise. “Okay, okay. Sorry. Darth Marr and Satele Shan.” I paused and took a sip of caff, half wishing that speaking their names would have summoned them. It would have made this a lot easier. “That's who walked out of the Academy with me. They wanted to make sure that Grogu didn't attract undue attention when you landed to pick me up.”

“You were the only thing alive on the _Crest's_ sensors, _cyare_.” Good, he was still grumpy.

“That's because Satele and Marr are … mostly dead.”

“Mostly dead?” I could almost feel the eyebrow he raised.

“Mostly, yes.” I swallowed what was left in my mug, dearly wishing it'd been spiked with Corellian whiskey. “They were both leaders of their respective sects in my time, incredibly strong and talented with the Force. And if you have enough raw strength, honed talent, or both, you can choose to sort of … not die, even if your body does.”

“That makes no... I don't...” Din spluttered, then trailed off into a string of Mando'a curses I could only half hear.

“I don't understand it either,” I said, cold comfort though it was. “Just that it happens, and that it's a conscious choice on the part of the Force-user.” I stopped for a moment, thinking, Din still swearing away under his breath. There had to be... ah. “Okay, so... maybe a better way to think of it is like this: When a Mandalorian dies, they are accepted back to the _manda_ if they are found worthy, right?”

That seemed to bring him up short, then he nodded. “That's right. Those that are _dar'manda_ are rejected; cast out and soulless.”

“This is door number three, so to speak.” I set my cup down and held up my hands in a placating sort of gesture at his flash of affront. “Hear me out, Din. Marr absolutely died a warrior's death, a worthy one. Had he been Mandalorian, he certainly would have been accepted into the _manda_ , but instead he _chose_ to remain. His reasons are his, don't ask me what they might be, but he made the conscious choice to stay. With the Force but not _of_ it. Satele did the same, though I can't speak to her death; I was likely long in carbonite by then.”

It really was fascinating to get to _literally_ watch the gears turn while he thought.

“And this, what did you say his name was... Tenebrae?” I nodded. “Tenebrae did the same thing.”

“Several times,” I amended. “Three, that I'm sure of, very possibly more.”

More silence while he turned this over in his head. “So you're here, now, because of him.” It shouldn't have surprised me that he connected the dots.

“Yes.”

“Why? What about all of this _dini'la_ makes him specifically _your_ problem?!” I blinked. Frustration I'd expected, apprehension, exasperation. But not anger on a personal level.

It was a fair question, though. Originally, it had been because I'd been used. Betrayed, then cast aside, toyed with when I had no more direct use to him. Because he had twisted everything that the Sith had been, turned us into little more than animated children's villains, then abandoned us to what he felt was his perfected empire on Zakuul.

And then I'd been to Oricon, then Ziost. I'd seen what he had done to his daughter, what he'd engendered in his then-surviving son, his wife. I'd seen what he would do to the galaxy as a whole, if he were allowed to succeed. And I was the only one then who'd had the strength to repeatedly defy him, let alone slow him down even a little. Now, I was the only one with the strength _and_ the will to do it.

There was no way I could explain this to Din with words; trying to simply describe Ziost wouldn't do it justice. I had to show him, and I sincerely doubted I could convince him to take another field trip into Imperial space. Which left me with only one option.

I let a slow breath. I didn't want to ask him this. “It'll be easier if I show you,” I said softly, and held my hands out to him. “Will you let me?”


	27. Chapter 27

_Ziost, but this time I knew why I was here._

_Lana's desperate holocall rang in my ears as I touched down inside the base – I could already feel Vitiate's mind pressing against my own. I ignored him; if he really wanted in that badly, he'd have to try harder. I'd refused to let anyone accompany me to the surface, even Jaesa. Especially Jaesa. The fewer I put at risk, the safer we'd all be._

_The comms center was sparsely populated with soldiers, all of them fully under Vitiate's sway. They attacked me the moment I entered. I did the best I could to end their suffering quickly, Yavin's lessons fresh in my memory. I would have spared them if I could._

_A Sixth Line Jedi, spitting Vitiate's taunts at me. He got a moment's relief as Death claimed him, and I allowed myself the heartbeat to mourn the necessity of killing him. More pawns, then Lana's blessedly alive form striding through the door. What I'd told the Dread Masters on Oricon was true – there were precious few people close to me, and the thought of losing any one of them was terrifying._

_Agent Kovach, the armory, a clearer picture of what the sitrep really was when Master Suro managed to break free of the Emperor's hold for those brief moments. Theron, also blessedly alive, if worse for wear. Chancellor Saresh, always guaranteed to show up and make a bigger mess of things at the worst possible moment, the bitch._

_The absolute disaster that was the original plan for New Adasta's evacuation, thank you “the smallest monolith we've come across” that cemented my distinct distaste for Sith Alchemy. Battling my way up the tower, doing my utmost to limit casualties and unfortunately not quite succeeding. Each time I had to kill someone under Vitiate's control, I only became more sure of my purpose. This monster had to die, and I would be the one to kill him._

_Lana's plan was half-baked at best, but it made a certain amount of sense. Vitiate had been toying with us, with **me** this entire time. Turn about was fair play, my turn to taunt him._

_Suro must have been fighting his hold on her again, because it wasn't that difficult to drop her. Lana didn't appreciate it when I sent Suro with Theron, but Lana also didn't have my … unique perspective on what it was like to be so thoroughly in Vitiate's hold. Comms cut out when Marr tried to touch base, and then Vitiate's voice suffused everything._

“ _I've decided that life is more interesting with you in it. Continue to rail against me if you wish, but know that it makes no difference, my dear Wrath. When this world turns to ash, I want you to be alive to bear witness.”_

_I took those refugees I could with me on the next shuttle to the station, did my best to shove the lump in my throat down when a young military mother pressed her toddler into my arms with eyes that said she knew exactly what she was asking me to do._

_The klaxons were already screaming as I stepped out into the hangar bay; I didn't need to look at a terminal to know what was happening. I gratefully passed the crying toddler to Vette, then stepped to the magfield that kept the hangar pressurized._

_The destruction started in New Adasta, because of course it did. Of course the sick fuck knew I was already off planet, why would this even surprise me? I forced myself to watch, horrified, as the wave took only minutes to consume anything alive on Ziost, fully aware of the feeling of millions snuffed out in little more than a blink._

_If it was the last thing I ever did, if it took me one lifetime or hundreds, I was going to make sure this Never. Happened. Again._

~~*~~


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a fair bit of Mando'a in this chapter, and trying to have Israa translate it in story just felt ... clunky. So. If you're feeling super lazy and not at all inclined to go look up translations yourself, hit me up with a private message either here or on tumblr (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jaydecaminus) and I'll get you the translations.

I disengaged Din's mind from my own as carefully as I could, only letting go of his hands once I was sure we were clear. The moment I did, he jerked away from me, stumbling off the crate and dropping to his knees. I scrambled off my own crate as he started dry heaving, but he stopped me with an outstretched hand as I moved to touch him.

“ _Haran, ni kar'ta,_ ” he finally gasped out. “How... how are you still sane after seeing that?”

“Arguably, I'm not,” I murmured dryly. “I mean, I _did_ willingly take an extended carbonite nap in the name of killing this asshole, after all.”

Din barked a weak laugh, then sat back and leaned against the crates we'd been sitting on. “That's … that's fair. Point taken.” I heard his head thump lightly against the crate.

I tentatively slid my foot over to bump up next to his, testing the waters on where he was at for physical contact. This was rather a lot to absorb all at once, and I didn't blame him in the least for not wanting me to touch him initially. I squeaked when his arm shot out and he pulled me tight to his body, the sound garnering a tired chuckle.

I let him use me as a teddy bear, content in the silence while we both processed. I was floating along on the edge of dozing when he rumbled a question at me.

“Wha..?” Oh, yeah, you go girl. That sounded _so_ intelligent.

Din snorted softly, then repeated his question. “So, if you're here to make sure this … I don't even know what to call it, dies, then where does that leave...” He shrugged. “Grogu? Me?”

“Where does that leave us, you mean.” I sat up and shoved him around so it was my turn to curl awkwardly around and over him, our legs tangled and my arms wrapped around his torso. I felt his shoulders hunch, and the flicker of shame. I laid my cheek against the back of his shoulder. “It's alright. I'd wonder too, were our places reversed.”

“It's silly, I shouldn't -”

I cut him off with a kiss to the hollow behind his ear, stretch though it was for me given I was behind him. “Stop it; you're as fallible as the rest of us. It's only natural you'd wonder. You're not getting rid of me anytime soon, though; you were supposed to find us.” I wrapped myself more firmly around him before I continued. “Under other circumstances, now that I know I can, I'd show you how I know that. But I think we've both had more than enough of you being inside my head tonight.”

Din snorted. “That would be the understatement of the year, yes.”

I hummed a soft laugh at that. “Then take me at my word tonight, _cyare._ You were meant to find us. Maybe not necessarily on Arvala 7, but you were going to find us at some point. You're meant to be along for this ride, meant to protect Grogu, to be his father. To remind me that there's more to life than duty and vengeance.”

He twisted around, and before I could re-balance myself, he'd basically flipped me over his shoulder and into his lap. I cupped his face in one hand and felt him smiling. It was soft, quiet, but it was a smile all the same. A moment later he pressed his forehead to mine and followed it with a kiss.

“ _K'oyacyi, cyare,_ ” he murmured, lips ghosting along my jaw. “ _Beskar'gam b'ni kar'ta, gaa'taylir ni ba'juri verde.”_

Oh... my breath caught, just for the barest of moments. “ _Ven'gebi,_ Din. _Ni haat'mitir_.”

~~*~~


	29. Chapter 29

The rest of the trip to Tython, all remaining six galactic standard days of it, was peppered with questions from Din. Which ultimately devolved into him pulling a growler of tihaar out from Force only knows where and sitting me down with it and two cups in the cockpit one night.

“That memory you shared with me,” he started as he gently swirled his drink. “What planet was that?”

“Ziost,” I answered, once settled cross-legged into my preferred copilot's seat. “The city was called New Adasta.”

“I've never heard of either of them.”

“That's not surprising. Ziost was … not an incident the Sith Empire wanted widely spoken about.” I sipped at my drink and tried to bury the remembered pain of the planet dying all at once.

“Is the planet still there?”

“Probably. Korriban was still there, so logic dictates.” I raised one eyebrow as I watched Din think.

“So if it's still there, we could … I could see it in person.” His head came up slightly to look at me, the question radiating off him. I took another sip of tihaar and blinked at him for a moment.

“Well, we _could_ ,” I replied slowly. “Though it's a neighboring system to Korriban.” I almost snorted at the abrupt shift to his aura.

“Ah.... I think I'll pass, then. And it was unfair of me to even consider asking you to revisit that place. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” I gave him a smile and reached over to squeeze his arm. “Seeing it in a memory is one thing, seeing it in person is something else. I understand.”

Din nodded a couple of times, then took a healthy swallow of his tihaar. It took him a minute or so to wrap his head around his next question. “What... how did Ziost...”

“He ate it.” I closed my eyes against the memory and shotgunned the last of my drink. “Used the Force to annihilate every living thing on Ziost and then absorbed the essence of the planet to make himself stronger.”

I heard Din choke and opened my eyes to see him moving to keep from spitting alcohol everywhere. The shock and horror colored his aura in heavy strokes.

“He _ate it_?!”

“Mhmm.” I refilled my cup while he chewed on the concept.

“He ate it.”

“Yes, _cyare_.” I reached over and took his cup, topped it off, then deliberately pressed it into his hands. “Drink.” I chuckled dryly as he tossed back the full cup in one go, then took it from him and refilled it. “Better?”

“No. But I think the shock is wearing off.”

“It's probably the alcohol, but fair enough,” I said cheerfully. Tihaar always had hit me faster than most other alcohols. Din grunted an acknowledgment.

“Could he do it again? Now?” The tihaar must have started to take hold with him,too, because there was absolutely no delicacy to how he asked the question.

“Theoretically.” No choking this time, just a very soft sigh and a heavy swallow before he took the growler off the nav display and poured another drink.

“So, do you have a plan to deal with … all this?” Din gestured expansively with his cup. I snorted.

“One thing at a time, _cyare_. Let's get Grogu the teacher he needs, first. I'll figure out a plan as we go.” I took a pull from my cup. “Wouldn't be the first time I've dealt with Tenebrae by pulling a plan out of my ass.”

He grunted, as if to say I had a fair point. Grogu _was_ the priority at the moment – once he was safely away with a more suitable teacher, I could then turn my focus to Tenebrae and building the network of resources I'd need to eliminate him. Again. Gods, I hoped this would be the last time.

“You're absolutely sure Tenebrae's coming back?” How this man wasn't slurring his words yet was beyond me.

“Yep.”

“How?”

Uff. He would ask that. I took a breath and carefully set my cup down next to the growler. “Lana and I had a vision. Well, every Force user on Odessen had much the same vision, if I'm being honest, but Lana, Sana Rae, Valkorian's wife and son, and I had a stronger, more detailed one. When that many of us have the same experience, it's not easy to dismiss.”

“You... _shared_ a vision?” I watched his silhouette change as he cocked his head, trying to wrap his brain around the concept. “How does that even... wait, if you can share memories with people, that's … really not that strange, I guess.” He swallowed more tihaar. “What was the vision?”

I suppressed a groan – I'd already developed a certain distaste for the idea of sharing memories with, well, anyone, but Din in particular since so many of mine were … highly unpleasant. But, the vision had involved him and Grogu, and he did have a right to know. “You have choices,” I started, waiting for his noise of assent before I continued. “I can explain it to you, or, I can show it to you.”

Din was quiet for a moment, the gears turning in pretty swirls of color while he thought. “Will you show me, _ni kar'ta?_ ” he asked softly after a moment. “If you're willing?”

“Okay.” I managed not to sigh when I said it, so points for that. I took a breath and rolled my shoulders, then held my hands out for his.

“No, come here, Israa.,” he murmured, then pulled me into his lap with a tug on my forearm. I didn't argue, instead tucked myself up against his torso more comfortably and settled my head into the crook of his neck. Din wrapped his arms around me, enveloping me in a sense of safety. “I know I'm asking a lot. The least I can do is hold you while we do this.”

Gods. What had I done to deserve this man?

I gave us both a couple of minutes to relax into each other, stretching out and sort of taking Din by the metaphysical hand so to speak once our heart rates and breathing matched.

_Everything was back lit in red and orange, seething anger and malicious glee. There was a child crying somewhere just beyond what I could see, the sound heartrendingly familiar, though I didn't know why._

_I followed the cries, each step coming faster as some maternal instinct drove me forward. How did I know this child?_

_Streaks of black started to darken the almost obnoxiously bright … space? … and I knew I was close. A few more hurried steps, and I saw the source of the fearful cries: a tiny, bat-eared child, more coherently terrified than a being that age should be._

_He was cowering before a familiar figure clad in ornate, blue and white robes, red skin just visible above the collar before it disappeared into a knot of hair in shades of red and black to match my own._

_Tenebrae._

_A silver-blue figure stood resolute between the Child and the former Emperor, a lone bulwark against an ancient evil._

_Ally, the Force whispered. Aliit._

_Tenebrae raised his hands, purple lighting cracking at his fingertips. I reached for the figures, and the vision faded._

I made sure Din was planted firmly in his own brain before I let go of him. I pulled free of the connection with a sharp breath, shaking hard as I curled into a tighter ball in his lap. He pulled me closer and I could hear his heartbeat thudding hard under my ear. It was a long moment before either of us were calm enough to speak.

“I … guess it makes sense why you would be sure,” Din murmured. “Grogu isn't exactly hard to mistake.”

“No, he's not,” I agreed. I forced myself to let go of the wad of his shirt I didn't remember grabbing, one aching finger at a time.

“You're so sure that was me, though.” He sounded like he wasn't sure if it should have been a question.

“I'm sure it's you.” I kissed his neck, suddenly very thankful we'd been drinking.

“How? How can you be so sure?”

“That's what color you are, _cyare_ ,” I murmured. “That's how I know.”

~~*~~


	30. Chapter 30

Tython was as steeped in the Light side of the Force as Korriban was the Dark, the major difference being that I didn't have to actively defend myself or Grogu from anything that might try to eat us. It was kind of refreshing, if I was going to be honest.

I held wee man while he had his face pressed to the viewport, Din taking a moment to fly a tight circle around the mountain in search of a landing zone.

“Too small to land up top,” he muttered. “Guess we're in for a bit of a hike.”

“It'll be good to stretch our legs,” I replied. Grogu cooed excitedly. “Tython should have a pretty mild climate, if memory serves.”

“You've been here before?”

“Once.” I tried to suppress the guilt that came with the admission. I wasn't proud of what I'd done. What I'd been tricked into doing. “This isn't the same temple, though; it feels different. I don't think the one I, uh, visited still exists.”

He was looking at me, I could tell. I shook my head. “Another time, Din, please. It's... not a story Grogu needs to hear.”

Din grunted his acknowledgment, then started the landing sequence. A few minutes later, we were all in the hold, ramp down to flood the space with fresh air. It smelled the same as I remembered: warm conifer resin and rock, rich dirt, the occasional hint of pollen from something. The only things missing was the acrid scents of seared metal, burning flesh and hot plasma.

I laughed as Grogu toddler-sprinted down the ramp, squealing happily at the feeling of dirt and grass under his toes. I couldn't blame the little guy in the least. Din started after him, all paranoid father, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Relax,” I said, passing him his Amben rifle before clipping my lightsabers to my belt. “There's nothing here that will hurt him, let him enjoy himself for a minute.”

“She says as she hands me my sniper rifle.” Din's voice was dry, but teasing.

“Ass.” I mock punched his arm, careful to avoid the beskar pauldron. “Just take it; the scope alone might come in handy.”

He chuckled and pressed his helmet to my forehead, then followed after Grogu. I moved to follow, then stopped at the top of the ramp and took a good look at the C _rest._ I had this funny feeling in my gut, like it was the last time I was going to see her, and I didn't like it one bit.

I shook myself, then joined my boys. I could hear Din laughing, the sound rich and heartening, as he chased Grogu through the underbrush. I felt a weight lift from my chest – I hadn't known how much I needed to hear that until I had. Ahsoka was right, I'd do anything for these two idiots, because they were _my_ two idiots.

Unsurprisingly, Grogu demanded that one or the other of us carry him once we started the hike in earnest. Din and I happily traded off, occasionally just passing him over, more often letting him use our outstretched arms as a bridge so he could ride on our shoulders like some sort of weird parrot. He'd just clambered back to my shoulder, tiny gremlin hand buried in my hair, when we reached the summit and the seeing stone. I stopped just on the outer edge of the henge as Sunda's comment about my lightsabers rung in my memory.

“ _K'olar, cyare_ ,” I called, Din having moved into the henge proper. I saw him cock his head at me in question as he turned.

“ _Me'copaani, ni kar'ta?_ ” He stopped in front of me, all curiosity.

“I ...” I stopped, suddenly embarrassed. No, not embarrassed, closer to nervous, but that wasn't quite right either. Grogu cooed in my ear, picking up on whatever this emotion was. I took a steadying breath, then unclipped my lightsabers from their places on my belt. A voice I didn't know echoed through the Force as I stared at them: _These weapons are your life_.

“Israa?” Din's voice was soft, gentle. Concerned.

“I need you to carry these for me,” I rasped finally, the words trying to stick in my throat. I trusted Sunda's words, and I trusted Din implicitly. _Loved_ both of them. Why was this so hard? I felt Grogu shift around on my shoulder, then reach down and pat my cheek with his free hand lightly. Sweet little one that he was; I wondered how clearly he could read me.

Large, gloved hands settled over my blades, Din's fingers resting lightly on my wrists. “ _Ni kar'ta,_ are you sure? I...” I heard his voice catch, the quiet gravel of him clearing his throat. “You've not been without them since Korriban. That tells me that your weapons are to you what the helmet is to me.”

“They are.” I dragged my gaze up to his helmet, my voice finally clear and sure again. “I need you to carry them for me. Please.”

Din simply nodded, lifting my lightsabers from my hands and sliding them home on his own belt. I shoved down the feeling of being naked without them, and stepped into the henge.

The dome shaped stone in the center of the henge had a ring carved into it, the runes so weather worn they were illegible now. I could feel the Light eddying around it, calling to Grogu, and to a lesser degree, me. I walked clockwise around the stone, following the currents of the Force, then carefully settled myself cross-legged on top of it. Grogu scrambled down my arm to settle in the hollow of my lap.

“So, what's the plan?” Din sounded curious, as well as a little on edge. I didn't blame him, this was a rather exposed position, and being Force-blind, he probably felt a bit superfluous.

“That's... kind of up to Grogu,” I shrugged. “I can act as a conduit of sorts for him, as well as protect him from anything that might get opportunistic, but … there's not exactly a set timetable on things like this.”

“That's not very reassuring, Israa.”

“Sorry.” I made an apologetic face. The roar of a ship's engine stopped me before I could continue, the sound causing anxiety to shoot through Din like fireworks. “Well, that's not a g-”

And suddenly I was being shoved into the not-quite-reality of the Force.

I stumbled a bit, catching my balance and looking around. Whatever iteration of space Grogu and I were in, it was lit in the same manner that my vision of Tenebrae had been, but in cooler, calmer colors. A gurgling coo of curiosity sounded near my feet, and I looked down just in time to see Grogu waddle away into the blue gray haze before us. True to my word and intent to protect, I followed him.

Wee man seemed to know more or less where he was going; he moved with a singular purpose I'd not seen in him before. Something was niggling at the back of my awareness as we walked, and I let him get a bit ahead of me. Not so far that I couldn't see or hear him babbling away, but far enough that whatever had decided to harass me wouldn't immediately go for him.

“ _Such a doting maternal figure,”_ a disgustingly familiar voice said. The light around me took on a warmer hue, and I growled.

“Show yourself, Valkorian.” I spun slowly, looking for the source. Grogu was a decent distance away, and had been joined by a male figure. No sense of malice from him, though, so I kept a watchful eye on my gremlin.

“ _You're not **really** his mother, you know.”_ Valkorian flickered into view but didn't really solidify. I didn't know if it was the strength of Tython's attunement to the Light that kept him from fully joining me, or if he was just fucking with me, but I wasn't going to question it right this second.

“I know, and I don't care,” I snarled. I moved so I was more firmly between him and my son. “What do you want?”

“ _What do you think, my dear Wrath?”_ he chuckled. His use of my title made my stomach churn. _“I can't have you, you made that clear some time ago.”_

“You can't have him either,” I said, voice dropping dangerously. “Either of them.” I could hear Grogu toddling back to me; what would it take to get Valkorian to go away?!

Valkorian laughed, the same deep, knowing, self-assured laugh that he'd loosed in the throne room on Zakuul when I'd killed him the first time. _“We shall see,”_ he intoned, then vanished.

I came back to reality with a vicious bump, wrapping myself around Grogu as we tumbled off the seeing stone. The abrupt transitions as much as my encounter with Valkorian had left me sick to my stomach and disoriented, blind in every sense of the word.

I'd just managed to grope my way to my knees, Grogu clutched to my chest with one hand, the other on the seeing stone for balance, when something snatched him from my grip and something else grabbed me from behind. I shrieked and struggled to get away, but metal hands tightened with bruising force around my waist and then I was airborne.

~~*~~


	31. Chapter 31

Imperial cruisers still felt the same, even three thousand years later. Some things never change.

I knelt on the floor of my cell, eyes closed as I drifted on the edge of meditation. I could hear Grogu throwing stormtroopers around in his cell with the Force, the duraplast armor clattering against the floor and walls. I heard the sharp report of a rifle and grimaced, but I could still feel Grogu within the currents of the Force surrounding me and returned my focus to what I was doing.

Two of the droids that had abducted us from the surface were attempting to move toward me, their heavy mechanical footsteps getting them nowhere as I held a solid wall of air in place before me. The stormtroopers that had initially tried to restrain me had made an intelligent decision and retreated to the hall.

  
  


“I thought you’d be more impressive, Israa’neryn, Emperor’s Wrath.” I knew that voice. Gideon had finally arrived.

  
  


“ _Empire's_ Wrath,” I corrected mildly. I felt him toe up against my barrier.

  
  


“The distinction hardly matters.” His tone made him sound bored, unimpressed, and it might have fooled his troops, but I could feel the cautious anxiety rolling through him. “In fact, I'm rather surprised that the child put up more of a fight than you did. Perhaps you're not what legend made you out to be.”

  
  


Really? That was the best he could do?

  
  


I opened my eyes, raising one eyebrow as I took in his deep black silhouette. “Careful, _woyunoks_ ,” I chastised softly, taking the endearment of 'little one' in my native tongue and turning it into a term of derision. “I'm not some frightened, half-trained child. Just because I'm _not_ fighting back, it doesn't mean I _can't_.”

  
  


I took an inordinate amount of satisfaction in the spike of bright orange fear that zipped through him. Good. He had the sense to at least be momentarily afraid.

  
  


“Pragmatic.” I heard a soft beep, and the droids stopped attempting forward motion, instead turning and tromping heavily into the hall. The stormtroopers that replaced them had the sense to hover near the door, all fidgeting nervousness. Gideon paced along the edge of my wall of air, occasionally kicking it but unable to cross. “Clever trick. That does rather create something of a moral dilemma for you, though.”

  
  


I cocked my head at him in silent question, still settled on my knees, the picture of unsettling calm. I heard duraplast armor scrape as the troopers looked at each other and shrugged.

  
  


“Since this,” Gideon kicked the invisible wall again, “is preventing me from getting what I want, I suppose I'll just have to get it from the child. Pity it's such a small creature.”

  
  


Solid, glacially cold anger settled in my veins, to the point where the temperature in my cell dropped several degrees. “Touch the child again and I'll vent this entire cruiser into space, _woyunoks_ ,” I said, voice low and dangerous. I flowed to my feet, thinning my barrier and stepping nose to breastplate with Gideon. I heard the troopers bring their rifles to bear, but didn't break eye contact with the Moff as he raised his hand to stay them. I could practically feel the smug, self-assured smirk on the asshole's face.

  
  


“Is that so,” he murmured. “Well, if that's truly how you feel about the situation, I certainly hope you're prepared to offer an alternative.” He waved his upheld hand and I heard a droid shuffle into my cell; my anger had sharpened my sight enough that I could see the medical droid as gray line art behind him. Rather than a tray of vials, however, it held what looked to be an empty IV bag and appropriate tubing. I mentally spat a litany of curses.

  
  


“I highly suggest you take a seat, Israa'neryn,” Gideon said, entirely too pleased with himself. “It would be undignified for you to fall if you were to get lightheaded.”

  
  


~~*~~

  
  


_I drifted, floating along on the little swirls and eddies of the Force and barely cognizant of the needle being pulled from my arm. I knew this feeling, cold, sick, severely weakened from blood loss, and I hated it._

  
  


_Familiar presences came and went, sometimes Satele, a point of calm focus as she recited the Jedi Code, sometimes Marr, comfortingly warm in his anger at, well, everything. Lana would just sit with me, granting me her quiet strength, Sunda would be the sense of safety that I needed when I could hear Grogu crying for me but I was too weak to reach for him._

  
  


_There were a few times when either one or the other of us would bump up against the other's mind, and every time I would mentally wrap my son in my arms and give him what comfort I could. When I couldn't, Senya would stay with him, singing through the Force to both of us._

  
  


_Arcann would be there when the droid would arrive, needle and empty IV bag in hand. He'd walk with me, wandering paths that took me away from my ravaged body so that it could rest, and tell me stories of his twin Thexan and the trouble they would get into as children. Sometimes I'd catch glimpses of a cloaked figure, vaguely familiar, other times there would be snatches of conversation in Cara's voice, or Mayfeld's._

  
  


_Once, I heard Din's voice, as crystalline and clear as if he'd been speaking into my micro-comm:_

  
  


“ _Moff Gideon. You have something I want. You may_ **think** you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not. Soon, they will be back with me. They mean more to me than you will **ever** know.”

  
  


_I reached for him, his voice already fading from my ear, and caught a faint tug in return, like he'd turned to look for me._

  
  


“ _K'oyacyi, cyare, beskar'gam ni kar'ta,” I felt him whisper. “I'm coming for you both, and I'm not alone.”_

~~*~~


	32. Chapter 32

It was the emergency lights clicking as much as the alert klaxon that dragged me toward awareness. The sounds stabbed at my brain, making me groan and scrunch up on myself. I felt ill and shaky, if not quite weak. It'd been a couple of days since the last blood draw, if my vague memories of meals were anything to go by.

But it was the Din-flavored flash of panic followed by searing pain and fear that brought me fully back to myself. My eyes snapped open and I rolled off the bench onto my hands and knees. The movement had left me dizzy; I needed a moment to get the room to stop spinning and before I carefully hauled myself to my feet.

Another spike of pain from Din, and I had a flash of a black metal fist barreling toward my face.

This... would not do. Not even a little.

I was faintly aware of the temperature in my cell dropping as I surged to my feet, the Force flooding through me. I sucked in a long, fortifying breath, then reached deep into that well of glacially cold anger, and yanked the doors to the cell off their tracks. The troopers outside never stood a chance.

I strode into the hall and took a moment to look around, getting my bearings. Somewhere in the course of my imprisonment, I must have been moved from the first cell into one farther away from Grogu, because he was no longer within easy mental reach. I growled softly and cast outward, searching.

Nothing, nothing, nothing...ahhh. There was Din, and my little boy. With Gideon, who was not on the bridge where I was sure he should have been if he'd been a smart Intelligence officer.

I moved quickly, each step bringing clearer focus to my sight. The walls and floor actually began to look like walls and floor, instead of badly rendered sensor readings. I rounded the corner and entered Grogu's cell just as Gideon ignited what sounded like a lightsaber and tried to bring it down on Din's back in an overhead strike.

I called my lightsabers to me, and leapt forward in near the same breath, bringing my crossed blades up to block Gideon's strike, my body shoving Din out of the way as I landed. “That was a very poor choice, _woyunoks_ ,” I snarled as I kicked him away from me.

Gideon scrambled to keep his feet, catching himself against the open door and flinging himself into the hall. I didn't spare a glance behind me as I followed; I trusted Din to take care of Grogu and watch my back as needed.

The Moff was standing a few feet away, black blade held out before him in a weak and terrified attempt at a front guard. I flipped my own blades lazily in my hands, then darted forward and swung. Gideon blocked, but only just, his movements panicked and jerky – clearly, he'd not planned on using his against someone who knew what they were doing.

I drove him backwards, toward the lift, putting just enough power behind each strike to keep him off balance. Once I had him cornered in the tube, I mentally pushed the commands for the upper decks and let him chase me around in little circles while the lift climbed. A commanding officer really should die on the bridge of his ship.

It was a heady thing, getting to see his features come into focus as we moved, my anger allowing me to channel the Force in such a natural way. Each step we took toward the bridge brought his expression of abject terror into clearer view.

I could feel Cara on the bridge before I saw her, as well Koska and Bo Katan, and a fourth woman I didn't know, but who seemed terribly amused at the situation I was shoving in their direction. All four women were fixated on the three flashing lightsabers, my blue-black blades swinging almost lazily, Gideon's warped black one moving in quick bursts by comparison.

I feinted, the movement causing Gideon to stumble over the blast door track and onto the bridge proper. I heard Din's sure footsteps behind me, and registered Cara saying something about needing him alive while Bo Katan tried to talk over her. I paid Kryze no mind; I didn't care for her much as it was.

I cocked my head to the side as Gideon stood, free hand out in front of him as if to placate me, the other clutching his weapon in a feeble center guard. I gave him a tired expression and yanked his blade away from him, letting the now inert hilt go spinning off into a corner somewhere. A lift of my eyebrow had him immobile and slightly off the deck. Cara saw her opportunity and cuffed him. Smart girl.

“What. Happened,” Kryze demanded, probably for the second time, as I let my awareness increase to include the boarding team.

“She brought him in alive is what happened,” Cara said, smiling warmly as Din entered with Grogu. She moved to join them and caressed the gremlin's ears. “And now the New Republic is gonna have to double the payment.”

“That isn't what she's talking about.” Gideon's voice sounded smug, even if his expression wasn't. “Why don't you kill her now, and take it?” He was facing Bo Katan at this point, and there was the smile to match his tone. I should have ignored Cara too.

I closed the gap between us and jammed the attenuator of my offhand blade under Gideon's chin, passingly aware of the temperature dropping even further around me. “Explain. Now.”

The bastard had the gall to try to push my hand away from him. The slightest lift of my eyebrow had him changing tactics. “Ah. The Darksaber,” he said, and awkwardly nodded toward where it had skittered off to. “Belongs to you now, Lady Wrath.”

“Reeves, is this true?” I didn't trust Bo Katan in the slightest, but Koska … Koska Reeves had been straight with me from the start, in as much as we'd interacted.

“It's true.” She moved closer, placing herself just barely between Bo Katan and I. For a brief moment, I wondered if it was a conscious act. “She has to win it from you in combat; tradition dictates you can't simply yield it to her.” She sounded … apologetic, even as Gideon started laughing. Behind her, Bo Katan seethed.

“You have got to be kriffing _kidding_ me,” I growled. This was the _last_ thing I needed, to get deeply involved in Mandalorian politics.

Gideon's laughter, and the beginnings of my mental diatribe, were interrupted by an alarm sounding on one of the bridge controls. Footsteps behind me told me the fourth woman, whom I had yet to actually meet, had moved to the console.

“The ray shields have been breached,” she said, calmly enough that an educated guess had her pegged for a professional murder hobo. “We're being boarded.”

“How many life forms?” That was Bo Katan, once again all business.

“None.”

“You're about to face off against the Darktroopers.” Gideon stepped back and away from me, slimy confidence returned. “You had your hands full with just one of them,” he shot over my shoulder at Din. “Let's see how you do against a platoon.”

“Fennec, close the blast doors.” Cara's voice had an undercurrent of fear.

“Don't,” I said, my own voice low. Soft. Predatory. I locked eyes with Gideon and tilted my head, ever so slightly.

“Israa, are you insane?!” Cara exclaimed.

“Arguably,” I responded dryly, still maintaining eye contact with the wayward Moff. He groped around behind him and dropped heavily into a deck officer's chair.

“You couldn't possibly -” I stopped her with a raised hand, thumb and last two fingers wrapped around my lightsaber hilt so it wouldn't fall.

“I believe,” I continued calmly, “That it's time for our dear friend Gideon to learn that there are more terrifying things in the galaxy than Jedi.”

I turned and moved smoothly into the hall, hands at my sides, blades unlit, and embraced the well of frigid anger that had been sustaining me. I heard Din stop Cara from doing something, then the lift doors opened.

The droids that came through the doors were impressive, even by my standards, but they were still droids. I could see them as clearly as if I'd never lost my sight, and the man who ostensibly commanded them was in dire need of an object lesson.

I let them get three steps into the hall before I thumbed on my lightsabers and leapt. The first two units dropped with torsos split from shoulder to groin, heads bouncing away on my upswing as I landed lightly. Units three and four went down with melted central drive cores, gaping holes left in the chest plates testament to my aim.

I didn't advance; instead I held my ground about halfway down the hall, simply letting wave after wave of droids come to me for slaughter. The piles at my feet steadily grew, as did the sense of horrified awe from behind me. I spun and ducked a blaster rifle swung at my head, eviscerating the droid with a backhanded swipe of my off hand while I speared the droid in front of me with my main. The puff of vapor as I exhaled changed direction and I whirled, blocking an overhead strike with my crossed blades for the second time in less than an hour.

Behind the blazing green blade locked against mine, bright blue eyes stared at me curiously. The young man before me felt familiar, the same way that Din had when we first crossed paths. I knew this man, he was supposed to be here.

“You're here for my son,” I said, just loud enough to be heard over the crackling of our lightsabers. “Aren't you?”

“Yes.” There was no fear, no hesitation in his answer, just polite curiosity and a certainty of purpose that was intensely similar to my own.

I closed my eyes and took a breath while the Force whispered affirmations around us. The quiet sting behind my eyelids, combined with the dull stabbing sensation in my chest confirmed it. I took one more steadying breath, then stepped back to release the pressure against our weapons. As my blades disappeared back into their hilts, I gestured toward the bridge and stepped aside.

Din was waiting for us, Grogu held tight to his chest. His visor turned toward me in question and I nodded. Unsurprisingly, the finer details of things were starting to blur, now that the immediate threat was over. Din was returning to his silver-blue, Cara her teal, Koska and Bo Katan to silvered navy and silvered purple, respectively. Grogu had his edges limned in white and gold, but I had the sense he was projecting into the Force so I could still see him in all his wrinkly, green adorableness. There was another dull stab of emotion in my chest, and I slipped past the Jedi to join my boys.

Grogu all but leapt from his father's arms into mine, burying his face into the hollow above my collar bone. I wrapped my arm around him and brought my other hand up to cradle the back of his head. I had to close my eyes against the sting of tears. Din pulled us close, his forehead coming to rest against the top of mine.

“It's time to go, sweetling,” I whispered. Grogu hiccuped and balled his little fist in my robes. I suppressed a small sob of my own, instead tightening my hold on my son for a moment. Din hugged us both, then rested his cheek on my head where his forehead had been a moment ago.

Cheek. Forehead. Not helmet. My heart clenched.

“ _Mhi kyr'tayl gai sa'ad,_ ” he murmured and moved back just enough to plant a kiss on one of Grogu's ears. “We know your name as our child, Grogu.”

My vision blurred, as much from tears as the adrenaline crash. I felt Grogu twist and lift his arm, heard the slight rasp of his tiny claws over Din's stubble. I took a shallow breath and stepped back after letting Grogu clamber back over to Din's hold, my now free hands searching for the officer's chair I knew to be nearby. I _refused_ to collapse before my son was safely away.

Din guided my hand to the back of the chair, then knelt and set Grogu on his feet. “Don't be scared, _ad'ika_. We'll see you again.”

Grogu, once again all marbled white and gold, toddled over to the Jedi and raised his arms to be picked up. I felt a brush of _Thank you, Mama_ against my mind, then the lift closed and they were gone.

~~*~~


	33. Chapter 33

When I came to, the first thing that caught my attention was the distinct lack of engine noise. The next was Theron sitting next to my bunk.

Wait.

Theron was dead. Very, _very_ dead. So, whoever was sitting watch over me was definitely Not Theron, but had the same sort of ordered, frosted glass sensation to them.

“Your breathing changed.” Nope, definitely not Theron, but the voice was pleasant enough. A more focused glance in his direction showed me a lovely combination of sunset oranges, reds and purples. This person was very sure of themselves, and clearly had some deep seated anger issues.

“You're an observant one,” I rasped. It'd taken me a moment to remember how to make my vocal chords work. Not-Theron grunted in response. I took a minute to listen to my surroundings.

“Your breathing changed again,” Not-Theron murmured, sounding a bit amused this time. Apparently, I'd dozed off while trying to identify engine sounds.

“Mmh.” I dragged my eyes open in an effort to hang on to consciousness this time. “This isn't the _Crest_.”

“No, it isn't.” Not-Theron shifted in his seat, leaning his forearms against his thighs. “He was in something of a hurry to find you two.”

“That shouldn't be a surprise to me, and yet,” I snorted. I slowly, carefully, dragged myself into a sitting position. “Where is he?”

“Down in the galley, with Fennec and Dune.” He made no move to assist me, instead just watching while I clung to the bunk support while the room stopped spinning. “Likely well on his way to drunk by this point.”

“If Cara's involved, that's a given.” I sat quietly for a moment, watching the swirls of color move through this man. It was rather mesmerizing. “Gideon?”

“Carbonite.” Not-Theron leaned back, guarded, but thoroughly at ease. I didn't blame him; in the condition I was in, I didn't pose a threat to wet tissue paper, let alone someone who outweighed me by several kilos, trained or otherwise. “Kept Dune from shooting him.”

I laughed, then immediately regretted the action, as it set the room spinning again. When it stopped, I shuffled around so that I could lean back against the head of the bunk instead of continuing to hold myself up. Standing was probably a Bad Idea. I took a moment with my eyes closed to just breathe, then rolled my head to the side and cracked an eyelid at my bedside guard.

“Israa,” I offered, holding a hand out loosely. “I have a feeling no one bothered with introductions, given everything going on.”

“Boba Fett,” he returned. I raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Fett, huh?” I brushed along his aura for a moment, then chuffed softly. “You're nothing like Khomo was. I think we'll get on nicely. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Huh.” Well, whatever reaction he'd been expecting, mine wasn't it. “Most polite _darjetii_ I've ever come across.”

“ _Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman,”_ I replied. “You and Fennec were there when we needed you. I do _try_ not to piss off my allies.”

Boba laughed, a pleasantly low rumble from deep in his chest. “Welcome aboard the _Slave I_ , Israa,” he said, still chuckling. “I'll let your _riduur_ know you're awake. I'm sure it will improve his mindset.”

~~*~~

The next time I woke, it was because Din was snoring so heavily I'd initially thought Cara had decided to watch a bad holonovella in the next bunk over.

I groaned and hauled myself upright, pleasantly surprised when I felt neither nauseous or dizzy. I took the handful of stumbling steps to where Din hung half-out of the lower bunk across from mine and gently ran my hand over his forehead and hair, doing my best to ignore the heavy scent of spotchka that wafted off him. He sighed deeply in his sleep at the touch.

My heart broke for him – he'd dealt with so much stress and pain in the last few weeks, and had precious little to call solid ground under his feet right now. I caressed his face one more time, then carefully stumbled my way toward wherever the 'fresher and then the galley were.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Cara drawled when I entered the galley, and lifted her cup in salute. Fennec – by process of elimination, since the person next to Cara was very clearly _not_ Boba – did the same, her aura a lovely shade of deep forest green. “That's the second time you've been touch and go around me on a mission. Starting to think you've got shit for luck, girl.”

I snorted and eased myself down across from her at the table. “More like I simply _am_ bad luck, but usually it's for other people.” Fennec got up and tossed me an instant MRE, cocking her head when Cara reached for it and got it started without even asking if I wanted the help.

“Blind,” she said, then slid the warming MRE across to me.

“You're shitting me. The way she moves?” Fennec's voice was smooth and mellow, like a proper cup of caff.

“Everyone's always so surprised,” I mock-complained.

“Right? You'd think the lightsabers are a dead giveaway.” I could hear the grin in Cara's voice.

“You'd think,” I murmured around a mouthful of reconstituted mystery meat. As much as I wanted to just shovel the food into my mouth, I knew better.

“Which explains absolutely fuck all about why you'd send your son off with Skywalker, when you're a fully trained Jedi yourself,” Fennec mused.

I froze with my fork halfway to my mouth and raised an eyebrow at Cara in question. She shrugged and made an 'ehn' sort of noise. Helpful.

I finished chewing and set my fork down, turning my attention to Fennec.

“I'm not a Jedi.” I watched her carefully, fairly confident in my assessment of her as a professional assassin. I had a reasonable amount of faith that Cara would stop her if she tried anything, but it never hurt to be cautious.

“Huh.” Fennec did an admirable job of subtly putting space between the two of us. I could feel her exchanging a look with Cara, who was trying very hard to suppress her amusement. “If I hadn't watched you take apart half a platoon of darktroopers by yourself, I'd say you're not much of the boogeyman the stories made Sith out to be.”

“Depends on the stories you're talking about,” I said, and nonchalantly went back to my MRE. “Anything reasonably recent? I'm very likely not even close.”

“Wait, what do you mean 'reasonably' recent?” Cara asked, leaning forward. I held up a finger, mouth full, then heard one of Din's ever-so-eloquent sighs from behind me.

“Really, Israa?” he asked, voice laden with gravel. “Again with this?”

It was an effort not to choke on either my food or my laughter.

I forced myself to swallow, waving a hand at Din to settle next to me. He did, dropping his head heavily onto his crossed arms. I gently rubbed his back with my free hand, stabbing another chunk of mystery meat with the other while I spoke. “You know we're going to need help, and will probably end up asking them. They should know.”

“Ask for our help with what?” Boba said dryly, also from behind me. Din just groaned.

I looked over my shoulder at Boba. “So. How do you feel about killing the closest thing to an actual god the galaxy's ever seen?”

Cara choked on her mouthful of spotchka, barely managing not to spray it all over everything while Din banged his helmeted head against the table a couple times. I heard Fennec's nails click against the spotchka bottle, but I kept my gaze, such as it was, on Boba.

“Sounds like my idea of a good time. How's the pay?”

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Darjetii - Sith; literally "dark Jedi"  
> Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman - a friend during danger is a true friend


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A note:
> 
> The next several chapters are all part of the same scene. In an effort to avoid Walls of Text, I've broken it up where it feels most natural. Don't worry, it will be very, very clear when one scene ends and the next begins. :)

Fennec had the presence of mind to retrieve another bottle of what I assumed was spotchka while Boba settled at the table with the rest of us. I took the chance to shovel a few more bites of almost-food down my throat – once we got into this, there wasn't likely to be much of a chance to finish the MRE, and a lifetime of experience told me they didn't reheat well a second time.

“Issy,” Din sounded slightly pained, like he couldn't quite believe this was happening. I made a noise of acknowledgment and he continued. “Be nice and start with the simple stuff, okay?”

Which I took to mean 'start with the age thing, not with the vision shit because we really don't need a group experience of that'.

“I will. Promise,” I managed, one hand over my mouth to maintain an effort at manners. Food now, talking momentarily.

“What's he mean, 'simple stuff'?” Cara asked, shrewd as ever and no longer in any immediate danger of choking on her drink. Din dropped his head against the table one more time.

As much as I pitied him, he wasn't going to get off easy. “ _Cyare_ , do you recall how old the fob said I was? It's been a bit, I don't remember the exact figure.”

I could feel the glare he was giving me when he turned his head and mumbled something that sounded like 'three thousand sisdfms and eighfblsd.'

“Sorry, didn't catch that,” Fennec drawled, entirely too amused. “Too many years using cheap ear protection, you know how it is.”

“I hate you all,” Din muttered, then sighed. “Three thousand six hundred eighty four. Not inclusive of the time we've been dealing with all … this.” He gestured, indicating the last not-quite-year or so of insanity.

I heard Fennec choke and set the bottle down hard, coughing. Cara, maybe not so weirdly, seemed to take it relatively in stride, but she'd known us longer and had sort of gotten an abbreviated crash course in my history back on the initial It's A Trap mission.

Boba, however, fixed me with a stare that would have dropped Hoth into an ice age. “Even for a _darjetii_ , that sounds like a bunch of bantha shit. You're going to need to explain. Now.”

Nope, that was _definitely_ not a request.

“Well,” I said slowly, trying to ignore the soft but very solid thumping of Din's helmet on the table. “Given your profession, I'm sure you're aware that carbonite stasis is a thing.” I sighed and slipped my hand between Din's head and his chosen instrument of attempted brain trauma. “Stop, darling, you're going to leave dents in the table.”

Boba grunted a 'yes, and?' noise.

“Some three thousand odd years ago, long-ish term carbonite stasis was a rare but known method of, uh... storing people, whether for imprisonment or want of a medical solution to a terminal illness.” I winced faintly as Din's helmet landed just slightly off center and squished my knuckle against the table's edge. “I'd already done a five year stint in the stuff. Data suggested that a sufficiently powerful Force user could probably survive carbonite freezing for a much longer period.”

“Much longer period, she says,” Cara said, tone all disbelief. “As if better than three thousand years is no big thing.”

“I'd survived five on an improper freezing,” I offered, maybe a little indignantly. “Minimal carbonite sickness when I was thawed, too, but that could have been whatever Lana shot me with.”

Din groaned into my hand. I couldn't really blame him; this all sounded absolutely bonkers, much like it had when I explained it to him the first time.

“Three thousand six hundred years,” Boba mused. For all that he had a wide swathe of neon blue disbelief through his swirls of orange, he sounded only academically interested. “With no ill effects. That's... very hard to believe, _darjetii_ or otherwise.”

“I wouldn't say there were no ill effects this time.” I held up a hand to Boba, asking for a moment, then reached behind me and forced Din to turn so he was straddling the bench and draped over my back and shoulder. If nothing else, it would force him to stop attempting a concussion. “I lost my sight, permanently, as far as I can tell.”

“Blind.” A branching streak of neon blue shot off the first. “You're blind. Prove it.”

“This should be interesting,” Fennec murmured. From the faintly hollow tone, I guessed she was speaking over the lip of her spotchka bottle.

I sighed softly; I should have expected this much. “Alright. Since clearly the lack of actual eye contact isn't enough proof, I've got no idea what any of you actually look like, but I can very clearly see every emotional reaction you're having at any given interaction.” I shifted slightly so I could get a clear look at Cara. “Cara, you're slightly shocked at all this, but thoroughly enjoying watching Din suffer through me revealing just how bat shit insane I've made his life. It's showing as an aqua shade on the edges of your usual teal. And there went a bright yellow stripe of holy shit at me saying so.”

I eyed Fennec next. “Deep forest green as your baseline, your disbelief is running more cobalt than aqua, marbled with purple self-assuredness. You're impressed with my read on you; it's showing up as fuchsia.”

I gave Boba a long look; of the group, he was the hardest to read the finer points on, even if his aura was brilliantly vibrant to my sight. “There's a multi-branched tree of neon blue disbelief overlaid on so many reds, oranges and purples that you look like a Tattooine sunset. The charcoal gray that just tinted everything tells me you absolutely _hate_ that I used that analogy to describe you.”

I let the silence hang while they absorbed all this. A spike of curiosity hit me from Cara's direction, and I turned to face her again.

“Let me guess.... you're really curious what he,” I tapped my fingernail against Din's helmet, “looks like to me.”

Din muttered something distinctly impolite in Mando'a, which pulled a laugh from Fett. I rapped my knuckles sharply against his bucket. “That was uncalled for, _cyare_.”

“So, just to make sure I understand correctly.” Boba leaned an elbow on the table, fixing me with a far less dangerous look. “I am currently sitting next to, very likely, the oldest sentient being in the galaxy, and this was the 'simple' part?”

I sighed, feeling very much like Din was in that moment. “Yes, this was the simple part. You might want to get Fennec to consider sharing her bottle for the rest of it.”

“Why?” That was Fennec, sounding rather possessive.

“Because if you thought this was a lot, you've got another thing coming,” Din supplied from over my shoulder. “It just gets weirder from here, trust me.”

~~*~~


	35. Chapter 35

Cara, in all her alcoholic wisdom, took Din at his word and got up, retrieving an MRE for everyone at the table, and another for me. Again, she prepped mine without asking and did Din's as well, given he was still slouched heavily over me and likely had no intention of moving any time soon. Whether or not he'd actually eat it remained to be seen.

“I've known you two long enough to know that if either of you says shit's about to get weird, we don't want to risk liver failure,” she said by way of explanation, sliding the heating MREs over. I snorted and retrieved my fork.

“Smart,” I chortled, shoving a bite into my mouth once the heating cycle finished. I heard Fennec mock-growl at Boba and looked over to see him stealing her spotchka bottle and abandoned cup. He filled it, then slid the bottle back to her, comfortable amusement coloring them both.

Gods, where to even start with this? Explaining it to Din was easy. Well, easier, since I could drop him inside my head if I really wanted. I could probably do the same with Cara, we'd bonded to a point, but I didn't know Fennec at all, and Boba was so hard to read as it was, I didn't even want to consider asking him.

“Alright, out with it,” Boba grunted around a mouthful. “If shit's about to get weird, let's get on with it.”

“If you insist,” I said, once I'd swallowed my food. “How familiar is everyone with the concept of Force ghosts? _Cyare_ , you don't count, you've already seen two.”

“Force what nows?” Fennec asked dryly. The woman radiated What The Fuck from her seat.

“Force ghosts,” said another voice, one that was wonderfully familiar. “Is the concept really so foreign, Lord Wrath?”

“It is these days,” I said, smiling broadly as I carefully disengaged myself from Din and got up. “It's good to see you, Lana.”

The sound of blasters being drawn from behind me was utterly unsurprising as I gave my closest friend a hug. Nor was the sound of a glass bottle being drug across the table. I shook my head lightly and stepped back, turning to face the living.

Fennec and Boba had their blasters trained on Lana, Cara was in the process of making an impressive dent in the spotchka, and Din... Din just groaned at the sound of my title and dropped his helmeted head into one hand. I gave them all a soft Really? expression.

“This is Lana Beniko. She was, and is, a dear friend and trusted advisor. Congratulations, you've all met your first Force ghost.”

“What. The. Fuck. Is. On. My. Ship.” Boba, again with that icy stare and tone of voice. “Djarin, explain this. Now.”

Din swore and lifted his head, then proceeded to give Fett, in Mando'a, an abbreviated explanation of my _manda_ analogy. I didn't blame him for doing it that way, it made far more sense than it had in Basic, but it left me with the task of explaining things to the girls.

I could feel Cara's curiosity getting the better of her, so I just launched into it. “The simple version is that when Lana's body died, she chose to stay. A Force user of sufficient skill or power, preferably both, can choose to keep a portion of their consciousness or soul, if you will, with the Force, but separate from it.” I shrugged. “I don't know how or why it works, just that it does.”

Utter disbelief all around, until Fennec lowered her blaster. “So, your friend there,” her head tipped as she gestured with her chin at Lana, “is dead, but not.”

“Basically, yes,” Lana replied. “An inelegant explanation, but it'll do.”

“Karrabast, Mando, you weren't kidding when you said it was going to get weird,” Cara muttered.

“You haven't even hit the weird parts yet,” he grumbled back. “This is almost normal by comparison.”

“I'm not sure I want to know how it could get any weirder,” Boba growled. “ _Haar'chak; darjetii jaro._ ”

“ _Haat o'r an nuhune,_ ” Din muttered in reply. I couldn't help it, I started laughing. Hysterically.

“I do hope you intend to share whatever was so funny,” Lana said mildly when my hyena laughs had faded to hiccuping giggles. She had one eyebrow raised oh so delicately, and the girls were both suffused with wary concern.

I took a moment to get a better grip on myself before I responded. “Fett basically said we have a fucking death wish. The response Mando gave translates to 'many a true word spoken in jest'.” I straightened and brushed a hand over my face. “Both of which are more true than I think either of us would care to admit, Lana.”

“Ah. Well, at least someone found levity in it,” she sighed. “If it were anyone but you in this situation, I'd say they're right.”

“Can someone _please_ explain what the kriff this is all getting to?” Cara finally exploded. I had to press my hands hard against my face to keep from laughing hysterically again.

“Yes, yes, we're getting there,” Lana waved a hand almost dismissively. “How much have you already told them?”

“Mando knows about Tenebrae, more or less. None of them know all of it, and they really should. It's too much to ask of them without the context.”

A spike of anger from Boba grabbed my attention. “You best start explaining it now, _darjetii_ , or you and your _riduur_ will be dealing with me in short order.”

I sighed and returned to my seat on the bench, Din immediately wrapping himself around me. Whether it was in emotional exhaustion or protectiveness, I couldn't tell. Lana opted to lean against the bulkhead, as if she were the one at risk of getting shot.

“Start with Revan, Israa,” she suggested. “Since that was effectively the catalyst.”

“Revan?” I felt Din jerk himself upright and twist me around so he could see my face. “ _Cyare_ , I know you said three thousand years, but -”

“Breathe. The Neo-Crusaders and Revan happened three hundred years before I was even born.” I gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and settled back more comfortably against him. “The incident Lana is referring to was a... I don't know what to even call that. A remnant? An echo of Revan, maybe?”

“I think 'remnant' would be an appropriate term, yes,” Lana mused quietly from the door. “Considering.”

“Mmh, valid.” I took a second or two, working out where to start. “Rishi was really just lead up, everything genuinely important happened on Yavin 4.”

“Get on with it,” Boba rumbled.

“What he said,” Fennec added, Cara grunting in agreement.

I sighed softly. Yavin. Right.

“There's a temple on Yavin 4 that we basically chased Revan and Co. to that had – hell, for all I know, still _has_ – some sort of massive death engine that would return the Sith Emperor to his body. Or a body, we never got close enough to the device to actually find out, and I really don't ever want to.” I side-eyed Cara and made gimmes at the spotchka bottle; Boba had the decency to grab a cup and fill it for me. I took a pull from the cup and made a face – spotchka tasted like ass as far as I was concerned, but this was not a conversation for sobriety. Lana snorted as I took another sip before continuing.

“Anyway. Revan was convinced that if Vitiate – the Emperor – was returned to a body that it could be killed, and thus end the potential threat he posed once and for all. Except that's … not really how it works, at least as far as Vitiate is concerned.”

“Israa, Theron, myself and a coalition of Republic and Sith Empire forces led by Grand Master Shan and Darth Marr stopped Revan from performing the ritual,” Lana mercifully picked up where I'd stopped. “But all the violence and death in the lead up to that made it a moot point – the Emperor had gained enough strength to shatter whatever bonds were holding his spirit, or a fragment of it, as it turned out, in that temple. He fled, or so we thought.”

It wasn't until Din pulled the cup from my hands that I realized I'd nearly drained it, or how tight my shoulders had become. Suddenly, I was very thankful Cara had shoved two MREs in front of me earlier. He ran his hands down my arms, pulling me tight against him. “Ziost was after Yavin 4, wasn't it?”

“Yeah.” I took a breath and tried to push past the guilt. “I don't know, it must have been weeks, maybe months later I got a call from Lana saying that the Emperor was on Ziost. I went to help – of all people, I was the most qualified to deal with him, and I wasn't about to abandon a friend.”

“Israa showed me what happened.” I closed my eyes in relief when Din took over. I could feel the anxiety coming off Cara and Fennec, probably based on my expression and watching me just _wilt_ so soon after completely destroying the darktroopers. Boba read as warily curious. “He used some sort of mass mind control to take over the population, including any Sith or Jedi that happened to be on the planet. These two excepted.” I felt him nod at Lana, then at me.

“Why?” Boba had let a bit of his curiosity get the better of him.

“He was toying with us,” I said softly. “With me, specifically. I'd caught his attention while in service to the Hand of the Emperor, aside from having made myself a spectacular pain in his literal and metaphysical ass after I wised up and got the hell out from under their direct control.” There was a thick swirl of _Murder?_ from Boba and Fennec and I opened my eyes to them exchanging A Look and the sensation of Din's hand creeping toward his blaster. “Oh, lovely. So it's still a thing then?”

“Apparently.” Fennec brought her hands up to where Din could see them, managing to make the movement look casual. Fett hadn't bothered to put his away from the initial draw, but something made him decide to do so now. “Last I heard, there was only the one Hand though, not a whole kriffing cult.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait... there's a _cult_ dedicated to the Emperor?” Cara, who had been uncharacteristically quiet until now finally got her brain to catch up. “The hell do you mean, there's a cult? What would the point even _be_?”

“Revan had a cult,” I said mildly. “Though it took them a bloody long time to be useful if what we were told is true. But as to your question specifically, the point of the Hand, as an organization, was to act as the Emperor's eyes, ears, digits and enforcers throughout the galaxy, and do the things he or the Council couldn't get done. Or couldn't be tied to, if necessary.”

“Which were you?” I blinked at Cara for a moment, genuinely caught aback at the question. The title alone would be a dead giveaway to most, even as drunk as she was.

“Vader.” Boba's voice was a low growl. “She was her time's equivalent to Vader.”

~~*~~


	36. Chapter 36

It rather took me by surprise how much I valued this group's opinion of me. The galley had gone absolutely silent after Boba's words, and I had to fight the instinctive desire to shrink back against Din's chest and hide in shame.

“Returning to Ziost,” Din murmured in his I Dare You voice and shattering the crystalline silence. “And why this all became her problem...”

I cleared my throat softly and forced my shoulders down from my ears before I picked up where I'd left off. “I, uh... I apparently had gotten his full and undivided attention. Calling someone who styles themselves as a god a coward seems to do that.”

It was enough to break the worst of the tension, the wise-crack garnering chuckles from around the room and a disgusted groan from Lana.

“Don't start, Lana, it wasn't like you gave me a script to work from.”

“Oh, like it's _my_ fault you chose to call him that, and then -”

“Well, it kind of _was_ , you did put me on the spot there with absolutely no warning.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Fennec broke in. “You were saying?”

“Right, right. Focusing.” I raised my hands in a placating gesture. “So, I called him a coward, and he proceeded to pseudo-manifest just his voice – which was creepy as hell, by the way – and basically tell me that he was bored and I made his life _interesting_.”

I heard Cara set down a very empty bottle, and Boba shift in his seat. “Again, let me make sure I'm understanding you correctly,” he said. “You called a demi-god, for lack of a better term, a coward. And then he told you he was going to make your life a living hell because he was _bored_?”

“Mhmm.” I batted Din's hand away from my nearly empty cup and drained it, then shoved more MRE into my mouth. I needed a minute before the next bit.

“So... what happened?” Fennec asked, finally cracking the seal on her own MRE.

“He made sure Israa was off planet,” Din continued for me. “And then he... ate it.”

Not even Boba, for all his professional composure, could keep from choking. I kept my head down and shoveled more food into my face. Lana and Din could field this one.

“He-” Cara.

“Fucking-” Fennec.

“ _Ate_ a godsdamned planet?” Boba finished.

“Yes, he did,” Lana said softly, voice full of guilt. “We evacuated as much of the population as we could, but...”

“Wait, so, Ziost just ceased to exist entirely?” Cara sounded very, very confused. “No rubble, no asteroid field, just poof, gone?”

“No.” Din shook his head. “Nothing nearly so... tidy.” He shifted me around so he was more comfortable, the movement a cover for his emotional distress. “What I saw... what Issy showed me; it was this giant wave of darkness, without it actually getting dark. Just felt like it. Whole thing swept over the planet in a matter of minutes, killing everything alive on it. Turned it all to ash.”

“Vitiate had tapped deep into the Dark Side,” Lana clarified. “Used his abilities to consume the living essence of the planet and it's people to make himself stronger.”

“If nothing else, the Emperor delights in tormenting people,” I said, finally picking my head up from the remains of my meal. “Genuinely _basks_ in the suffering he inflicts, almost bathes in it, I guess. If he didn't have such fine control of himself and whomever he's inhabiting at the time, I'd equate it to a spice addiction.”

“Well that's horrifyin... waaaaaaaait.” I could almost feel Cara narrowing her eyes at me. Fennec as well. I'd wondered who would catch that first. “Why do I get the feeling I probably don't want to know what you meant by 'whomever he's inhabiting'?”

“Because your hind-brain is kicking in,” Boba supplied.

“My lord,” Lana interrupted softly. She sounded tired. _Looked_ tired. I slid off the bench and lightly touched her arm.

“Go. I appreciate you being here at all; I know this is exhausting for you.” I gave my friend a tight, sad smile; I knew she could feel how much her presence during this chat had meant to me, and how much I missed her. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You know I'll help where I can.” She smiled, then pulled me into a brief hug. “May the Force ever serve you, Israa.”

“And you,” I murmured to empty air, then returned to my seat. Din, bless him, tucked me right back up against his torso and refused to let go.

“What was with your friend?” Fennec asked, nodding to where Lana had been standing.

“It's exceedingly draining for her to manifest physically like that,” I explained. “Just because she doesn't have a body doesn't mean it's not exhausting for the spirit.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense.” I watched colors swirl through Fennec while she processed. “Gotta say, makes the whole concept a little less terrifying.”

“Only a little?” I teased. I smiled and shook my head. “It's alright, I understand. I'm probably shattering your perspectives of the universe, so I don't begrudge you the comfort where you can find it.”

“At least she acknowledges the damage she's doing.” Boba reached over and snatched the second spotchka bottle from Fennec to refill his cup. Din snorted.

“Boba, I hate to tell you this,” I said, eyeing the colors overlaying themselves in his aura, “but it only gets worse from here, my friend.”

“Worse?” Cara stole the bottle before Fennec could get it back. “How could it _possibly_ get worse?”

“You sure you want to know the answer to that?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Not as sure as I was a second ago. Kriff, Israa, what the fuck?”

“Welcome to my life, Cara. I ask myself that on the daily.”

Boba stood abruptly, making me jump. “Let's go, _darjetii._ ”

“Go where?” I asked, standing slowly. I pressed Din back into his seat, as much to keep my balance as to calm his spike of indignant anger when Boba didn't use my name.

“We're taking a field trip.”

“Uh, no we're kriffing not,” Cara said from behind me. “I've got a frozen Moff to deliver to the New Republic.”

“He'll keep.” Fett jerked his head at me. “Cockpit. Now.”

I eased past him into the common area, and it clicked for me. “You want to go to Ziost.”

“Smart girl. Get moving.”

~~*~~


	37. Chapter 37

I could feel the void from Ziost pulling at me before we came out of hyperspace. The strength of it caught me by surprise, stealing my sight before I'd fully made it down the ladder to the crew commons.

“Shit!” I swore as I fell, having been between rungs, and resigned myself to once again landing on a very hard deck.

“Well, well, well.” Cara caught me, bridal style, before I could land. “Does Mando know you've fallen for me?”

I laughed and punched her in the arm as she set me on my feet. “You're hilarious, Cara. I do appreciate the assist, though.”

“In all seriousness, it's not like you to fall. Something up?” There was genuine concern under her light tone.

“Strap in, dropping out of hyperspace in one minute,” Boba called.

“Could I get a hand?” I gestured vaguely toward the jump seats. “The space around Ziost... it's a void. A hole in the Force. I can't see.”

“Yeah, sure.” Any note of humor had faded from her voice as she led me to a seat and helped me strap in. I heard her exchange murmurs with Din over the click of their seat belts, and then the rush of deceleration took over.

“No ships on sensors. You sure we're in Imperial space, _darjetii_?”

“I'm sure,” I gasped. The pull was stronger now that we were in subspace, literally stealing my breath as we approached Ziost.

After the initial destruction, I'd felt the absence of the Force as I'd left, but in the intervening three thousand years, it'd become stronger – a sucking wound actively seeking to be healed. I felt someone's hand take mine; I couldn't tell who it belonged to.

“There's something _wrong_ about this place.” Din's voice helped ground me. I heard Fennec and Cara agree.

“It's the Force,” I managed, if shakily. “Or, rather, the lack thereof. When Vitiate destroyed the planet, he _literally_ consumed the life essence of everything on it. This place is a void, a – a black hole would be a good analogy.”

“But we're not Force sensitive,” Fennec said, confused.

“Just because you can't wield it, doesn't mean you can't _feel_ it.” I gripped the hand that held mine, probably with bruising strength, and focused on taking an actual breath. Whomever it belonged to squeezed back. “That's why I can see you at all. You're as much a part of it as it is you. What do you think gives you the heebie jeebies in a potentially dangerous situation?”

“Setting us down; looks like this was the largest city.” I could hear the undercurrent of tension in Boba's voice. “Landing pad's a little small – thought Imperial officials liked nice big LZs to show off on.”

Of course. Of fucking _course_ Boba would pick the tower in New Adasta as his landing zone. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, willing myself to breathe slowly. There was nothing here, we'd be fine. They'd get out, look around for a few minutes, then we'd leave. I'd be fine.

“ _Cyare._ ” Din ran his hands over my face, then pressed his helmet to my forehead. I made a small noise and leaned into him. “Shhh, I'm here. Breathe, _ni kar'ta_.”

“Get her up.” The way Boba said it, it was a command, not a request. “I'm not about to leave a _darjetii_ alone on my ship.”

“Fett...” Din growled. I felt him stand up and turn, probably squaring up against Boba.

“Stop, it's fine,” I wheezed. I fumbled with my seat belts, groping for Din's hand so I could stand up and not fall on my face. “It's fine.”

I felt Din grasp my elbow as Boba grunted, whether in curiosity at my sudden incapacity or my acquiescence, I couldn't tell. Once I was steady on my feet, I carefully took one of my lightsabers and placed it on Din's belt.

“Israa?”

“Just in case. They're useless to me right now anyway.” He was quiet for a long moment, then led me out of the _Slave I_.

There was no sound outside the ship save the footsteps of our group. No city noises, no birds, not even wind through the ruins of the city. The moment we stepped off the ramp my legs gave way – contact with the planet itself made the intensity of the void so much worse.

“Israa!” Din swept me up and I took the opportunity to bury my face in his neck. The contact and his scent helped keep me present.

“Shit, is she okay?” Cara's voice floated through the low ringing in my ears. There were faint crunching sounds of ash under boots as she approached us. “She looks almost as bad as she did on Navarro.”

“Feels like I'm drowning,” I breathed. I felt her grip my shoulder and the pressure on my chest seemed to lift slightly before it came crashing back. I whimpered as her hand fell away.

“She looked better there for a second, right?” She sounded hollow, distant, even though I knew she was standing right next to me. “You saw too, yeah?”

“Yeah. Put your hand on her shoulder again.” Cara did, and I caught a split second to breathe. “Thought so. I'm not putting her through this.”

I heard Boba say something angrily to Din, Fennec asked a question, I think, then Boba shouted some more.

“Look at her, Fett! She's in no state to be mind fucking anyone!” Cara's hand fell away again as Din moved, stepping back up onto the ramp. A little more pressure lifted from my chest. “I'm keeping her here.”

“Oh, that's rich.” Boba's voice was clearer, he must have gotten closer to us. “If you think I'm going to leave you here with my shi-”

“I don't want your ship, Fett,” Din growled. “We're staying here; you can lock us in the bunks if you want, I don't care. But I'm not making her take another step on this _haran_.”

There was a long moment where the only thing I could hear was the lack of oxygen to my brain.

“Fine. Don't leave the bunk room.”

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: Companion fic has been started and posted! 
> 
> Translations:
> 
> darjetii - Sith, literally 'dark Jedi'  
> cyare - beloved  
> ni kar'ta - my heart  
> haran - hell


	38. Chapter 38

I woke to the sensations of Din's unarmored body wrapped around mine, and a set of fingers touching my upturned palm where it lay by my pillow. I shifted my head just enough to be able to see who they belonged to.

Boba Fett was once again sitting guard at my bedside, intently scrolling through a datapad. That I could see him told me we were well away from Ziost, and I was thankful for it.

“Go back to sleep,” he said quietly. “You still look like shit.”

I huffed a faint laugh and did as I was told.

When I woke next, Din was gone, but Boba was still present and accounted for.

“Your breathing changed,” he offered by way of greeting.

“Nice to see you, too.” I hauled myself upright and leaned back against the bulkhead. I had a massive headache, but I could see, and I could breathe. A headache was a small price to pay.

“After seeing that, I'm inclined to believe you.” Boba regarded me quietly for a moment, then stood. “When you're up for it, we're ready for the rest of it. I think.”

“Better hide Fennec's spotchka, then.” I slid out of the bunk, only slightly off-balance once on my feet. He steadied me by the elbow, then left. I gave a ten count so the ladder was clear before I followed.

The entire group was in the galley, every single one of them with subdued colors. I settled on the bench next to Din, who immediately pulled me against him. My headache faded some with the extended contact.

Fennec broke the silence first. “Just... what the karking _fuck_?” I snorted in the brief moment of her taking a breath. “There was _nothing_. The whole fucking place looked like a war zone, but there was _nothing_.”

“Even if I'd tried to warn you, you wouldn't have believed me.” I shrugged slightly. “The only other way would have been for me to get inside your head to show you, and that's not something I'm about to ask of any of you. Ever.”

“Damn right your not,” Boba growled. I gave him an understanding nod, then looked at Cara. She had a faint, vomit colored tinge to her. Out of everyone, I was the most surprised at her staying planetside, given what had happened to Alderaan.

“You alright, Cara?” I reached across the table for her hand, voice soft. She took it and squeezed, then pulled her arm back.

“I just...” she paused, and I watched her colors shift as she tried to get a handle on herself. “Seeing that... Alderaan seems almost merciful by comparison.”

All I could do was offer a sad, understanding attempt at a smile. Fennec passed spotchka-filled cups around – apparently, she'd gotten to the galley before Boba – and we all just let the silence sort of... hang. Because, really, what could be said after that?

Awkward stretched into companionable, and in short order I was drowsing against Din's chest, his arms settled heavily around my waist. I'd never have guessed that I'd find another bounty hunter's ship as peaceful as the _Crest_ , but here we were.

_**WHAM**_!

I jerked upright as Din's hand went for his blaster, a small squeak escaping me. A glance around showed Cara as mildly irritated but amused, Boba all but doubled over in laughter, and Fennec with an entirely too cheerful shade of pink overlaying her deep green. She probably had the shit-eating grin on her face to match the color.

“So! You said shit was about to get weirder,” she chirped. “Let's have it.”

I felt Din twist behind me, and if I hadn't guessed that he was going to slam his helmeted head into the table, the noise of it would have made me jump a second time. I just sighed.

“Right. Weirder.” I grimaced and scrubbed my hands over my face, then leaned back against Din before he could attempt further cranial trauma, and wrapped his arms around my waist again. “Ohhhhhkay....”

“Actually, wait. Before you start in on whatever brain shattering story you have next, I want to know something.” I cocked my head at Fennec, eyebrow raised in question. “What was your deal on Ziost? You collapsed almost immediately. What was with that?”

“Ah. That.” I frowned, searching for a good analogy. “You all have the same five basic senses – sight, sound, touch, and so on. For me, the Force is a sixth. As natural and intrinsic to my existence as breathing, seeing or hearing is for you.”

“Right, so?” I listened to the purl of alcohol as it filled her cup.

“Imagine...” I paused, thinking about how I wanted to phrase this. “Imagine what it would be like to be thrown into a deep, unlit pool of water – no light, no sense of direction, no sound save your blood rushing in your ears. Intellectually, you _know_ you can still see, that gravity still works, and that the surface of the pool is probably only a few centimeters above your head. But every sense you have is saying you can't, it doesn't, and it isn't. You know you're not drowning, not yet, but your body and hind-brain are telling you otherwise.”

“And being on Ziost took away your sight, because you use the Force to see,” Fennec said slowly, nodding. “Even I could feel how _wrong_ that planet was. I haven't been that jumpy in years.”

“Yes. When I compared it to a black hole, I meant it. The void there wanted to take everything we are to heal itself, and more. I just happen to be the only one who can actually manipulate the Force, so I felt it more acutely.”

“Makes sense.” She settled back more comfortably in her seat, tucking a leg up under her. “I hope that's not a common issue for you.”

“It's not.” I shrugged. “To the best of my knowledge, Ziost is the only place like that now.”

“So there's another dead planet like that out there?” Din sounded... less than thrilled.

“No; Nathema, last I saw it, was all but completely returned to it's former glory.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, remembering _that_ mission.

“But he'd done this before,” Boba rumbled. I nodded.

“Mhmm. And before you can ask, yes, I'll get to all that as part of the Shit Gets Weird briefing.” My fingers slid from my nose to my temples, massaging small circles just at the edges of my piercings. “It's just going to take a minute to get there.”

“So what happened after Ziost?” Cara asked quietly.

“The Council did what it could to mitigate the civil and political fallout from Ziost, and Marr and I spent the next several months hunting down every lead we could find, because Vitiate had just _vanished_.” I eyeballed the cup of spotchka Fennec had slid to me earlier. It still tasted like ass, but...

“No,” Din murmured, and slid the cup away from me. “I know this is hard for you, _cyare_ , but given what you're asking, you need to remember everything clearly. As much as you want to take the edge off the pain...”

“Missing one detail could get someone killed down the road, I know.” I sighed. “Alright.”

“So...?” Cara prompted, ever so gently.

“Marr finally tracked Vitiate down. He'd gotten some token assistance from Satele's forces, but given that the Empire and Republic were still technically at war with each other, that was all she could do.” I buried the urge to pull my knees up to my chest. “I met Darth Marr at the edges of Wild Space; the instant we came out of hyperspace I could feel Vitiate.”

“He's not a presence you easily forget,” Din muttered bitterly.

“No, he's not,” I agreed. I desperately wished I could have spared him that experience. “Vitiate's forces ambushed us. The Eternal Fleet absolutely devastated the armada we had within minutes; Marr and I were still on his flagship when it exploded.” I wasn't ready to tell them about making Vette leave me; I'd known when I told her to go I wasn't making it off that ship. “When I came to, I was cuffed and in an unfamiliar brig, Marr was in the cell across from mine.”

“Okay, hold up.” Cara stopped me before I could continue. She sat up in her seat, elbows on the table as she leaned forward. If I'd had to guess, the colors her aura shifted to meant she was peering at Din a bit suspiciously. “You sound like you're speaking from experience here, Mando. What gives?”

Din groaned, his arm jerking slightly off my waist like he wanted to facepalm against his helmet. I heard his bucket knock against the wall behind us as he looked up, likely with an Oh Gods Whyyyyyyyyyy expression under the beskar. Certainly felt like he was wearing one.

“Israa had... I don't know if it was a visit, a nightmare, or both about Ziost and Vitiate a few nights before we landed on Tython.” There were a couple quiet thunks as he smacked his head on the wall. “Between her, the kid, and whatever this kriffing poltergeist is all being space wizards, I got pulled into it too. Sort of.”

Cara's emotional Wait, what? reaction was almost overpowered by a vehement mental Oh, FUCK No from Boba. I sighed faintly and gave up, drawing my knees up to my chest and dropping my head against them. In shame, frustration or exhaustion, I didn't know.

“It was a little of both, and it was an _accident_.” I stressed the last word, mostly for Boba. “I'm not going to go poking about in anyone's head, with or without permission. It's not exactly in my skill set.”

“Not exactly comforting,” Fett grumbled. I sighed again, this time from exhaustion on so many levels. I didn't need this.

“Look, Fett,” I said, tersely but not sharply, and picked my head up. “I know you have no reason to trust me, or even _like_ me. To you, I'm just some _darjetii aruetii_ who's taken up with another Mandalorian, I get it. You wouldn't be the first person to accuse me of that, directly or otherwise.” Bo Katan came to mind, but I wasn't about to go there. I took a breath and continued, voice going from terse to just bone tired. “I don't have to defend, prove or otherwise subjugate myself to you just because Djarin and I are on your ship. If you don't want to hear the rest of this, or be involved, that's fine. Just say so, and I'll stop right here. You can let us off on Navarro with the Marshal and be done with it.”

I felt Din's tension behind me, a tightly coiled spring waiting to be let go. I also felt the girls exchanging looks, but no one said a word.

I closed my eyes for a moment, then unfolded myself and left the galley. I didn't even care what Boba's reaction was; this was a level of frustration I didn't need to add to two near-death experiences in less than a month.

No, what I needed was another nap.

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> darjetii auretii - Sith (or Dark Jedi) outsider


	39. Chapter 39

“Hey.” I looked up to see Fennec leaning against the open door, surprisingly sans spotchka bottle. I passed a hand over my face and gestured to the space on the bunk next to me. I hadn't been crying, not really, but there comes a point when the body has to release some emotional pressure, and I'd long since hit that.

“Gotta say, I've never heard of anyone standing up to Fett like that and living this long,” she commented, sliding in next to me. “You're an impressive little thing.”

I snorted. “Thanks. If you're here to make me feel better, it's not necessary. He's a prick, I know that, and he didn't get under my skin, really. I'm just...”

“Done. I get it.” Fennec nodded and settled more comfortably with her back against the foot board and her legs crossed. “Maybe not to the full extent, but I get the burnout.”

“Yeah.” I scrubbed my fingernails into my hairline, elbows braced on my knees.

“Also, I apologize in advance; I left the boys alone in the galley. Your boy toy might come back up here a little worse for wear.” She shrugged. “Or it could be the old man climbing back up to the cockpit to lick his wounds. You never know.”

“My money's on both,” I muttered. Gods, I was so tired. Of all of it.

“If you could go anywhere right now,” Fennec said, mellow voice softly curious, “where would it be, Israa?”

_The base on Odessen,_ my mind whispered. _Home._ But I didn't know if home was even still there.

“It doesn't matter.” My voice betrayed me, thick with suppressed emotion. “Anywhere I'd want to go is probably dust by now.”

“That's the burnout and depression talking,” she countered dryly. I gave her a faint smile. “Where would it be?”

“Odessen,” I finally acquiesced. “Though like I said, it wouldn't surprise me if it's not on any charts anymore. It was barely on ours when I was -” _when I was alive the first time,_ my brain finished for me.

I knew Fennec could figure where that train of thought had gone, but she didn't comment on it. “You might be surprised. I can check some charts, see if it's still a thing.” She shrugged. “Do you remember what the coordinates were? There's some drift to account for, but we might get lucky.”

I sighed and gave her a Thanks, But This Isn't Necessary look, followed by the coordinates as I remembered them. Those, at least, got a low, impressed whistle.

“Damn, girl, you weren't kidding, barely charted. I'll see what I can do.” She patted my shoulder, then eased out of the bunk. “I'd feed you some line about hanging in there and how things get better, but we all know what a load of karking bantha shit that is.”

I snorted, genuinely smiling. “Thanks, Fennec.”

~~*~~

I spent the last of the trip back to Navarro sequestered in the bunk Din and I had claimed. It was bad enough I could pick up on the emotions of everyone on board, I didn't need conversation to add to my poor mental state.

It was a relief when I heard the ramp hiss open. Din had vanished to the crew area before the landing sequence had started, so I took a last moment to make sure the bunks were neatly made and clip my lightsabers – all three of them – to my belt before I descended the ladder.

The four of them were grouped at the bottom of the ramp, sorting out the prisoner exchange. I slipped in next to Din, only half listening to the conversation. When there was a lull, I pulled him just slightly to the side.

“Where's the _Crest_ berthed?” I asked. “I'll get her ready to go while you finish up.”

My eyes widened as I watched Din do his best not to crumple in on himself in front of witnesses, shades of grief washing through him. Fett gracefully mentioned that they should finish up business in Cara's office and took the girls toward town, leaving us alone.

“Oh. Oh, no,” I breathed. “Din, sweetheart, I'm so sorry; I shouldn't have asked.”

“You didn't know,” he croaked. “You couldn't have. It's alright.”

“Still.” I gently pulled his head down so I could press mine to his helmet. “I'll... I'll do some asking around, see what we can get our hands on, yeah?”

“Okay.” He pulled me into a hug, gloved fingers cupped against the back of my head and buried in my braids. I knew by the way he radiated quiet that he was trying to settle himself, and having me close helped. To be fair, it was helping me, too.

“Ahem.” Fennec cleared her throat, and I pulled away from Din enough to see her standing at a polite distance. She tossed something at Din; he caught it and cocked his head at her. “Your cut. Go get what you need from town; we're heading out in an hour. Best be back on board before then.”

“That really isn't-” Din started, but she waved a hand at him and glanced over her shoulder before responding.

“I know. Consider it Fett's apology for being a dick.”

I looked at her, confused. My face must have shown it, because she cackled, then grabbed me by the wrist. “Come on, feisty. Let's get you a change of clothes or three. I can't imagine you want to fly all the way out to Odessen in the same armor you've been wearing since Tython.”

Wait. What?

“Fennec, what are you talking about?” I followed her toward the market, less out of desire to go shopping and more so I didn't get dragged there, Din trailing behind us. “Odessen isn't even-”

“Charted?” I could hear her grin. “Not for most people. But Fett's not most people.”

I stopped walking in utter shock. “You found it.”

“Yep.”

“How...?”

“Like I said,” Fennec grabbed my wrist again and started walking, “Fett's not most people.”

An hour later, Din and I were both provisioned with replacement necessities, and it hadn't even made a dent in the wallet Fennec had tossed him.

Fennec, for her part, shoved us both up the ramp, then turned to Boba as he approached.

“Did you get it sorted?” I heard, but only just, followed by one of Fett's eloquent grunts, and a slapping sound as she presumably smacked him upside the helmet. Or something. I didn't care enough to look; I still had to sort out where I stood with the man after the incident in the galley.

Once returned to the bunk, I made quiet noises about putting Din's things away for him, so he could take a shower or some time for himself, or get a bite. We both knew I was using it as an excuse to avoid everyone.

At one point, I heard Din and Fennec talking from below decks; they were likely close enough to the ladder that the sound carried. Din's voice was low and insistent, Fennec sounded entirely too cheerful and smug for her own good. A moment later, Din knocked on the bulkhead.

“Israa?” He was tentative, knowing all too well where my mindset had been of late. “Fennec mentioned there's actual food ready in the galley, not MREs. Want me to bring you a plate?”

“Please?” I wasn't ready to face Boba; I just didn't have the patience yet. I didn't expect him to actually apologize, either. What I could read of him told me he wasn't one to be overly invested in someone else's feelings.

Din nodded and disappeared below decks again, leaving me to the quiet.

~~*~~


	40. Chapter 40

_Defiler. Trespasser..._

_I'm surrounded by dark stone carved with glowing green runes, an unlocked door before me. There are two presences pressing against my mind, one hungry, the other beckoning. I step through the doorway and the stone shifts around me. Under me._

“ _Wrath, come to me,” a Voice beckons. I follow the call, and the stone shifts again._

_Plaything. Distraction. Pawn..._

_Glimpses of things swirl around me – battlefields, half-heard conversations, faces I feel like I should know, but don't._

_A man stands before me, clad in the robes of a Voss Mystic. A deep shadow fills the space behind and above him. “I am your Emperor.” I kneel, head bowed, as he turns. “Rise, my Wrath.”_

“ _Nooooooooooooo...” The roar of some ancient demon's rage shakes the temple. I stand and meet the Voice's gaze, but it's not the jewel-toned face of a Voss that greets me._

_It's Valkorian's. The stone shifts again._

“ _You,” I snarl. Something tells me I need to put up my walls, keep him here, trapped, in my mind, but I've already done that once before. It doesn't matter, I do it anyway._

“ _Me,” he intones. There are bodies at our feet, scattered around the platform edges of the Spire's throne room. Vette, her head at an impossible angle. Theron and Sunda, riddled with scorch marks. Fennec and Cara, unmarked but deathly still. Fett, beskar'gam crushed into his chest. Din, helmetless and bloody, curled protectively around Grogu._

“ _What do you want?” My words come out as an angry hiss, fury burning along my hands._

_He toes almost delicately around Sunda, white hems brushing across my lover's face. When I look next, he's reached the Eternal Throne. He turns and it's not a face I recognize._

_This one is wrinkled, sagging, corpse gray skin with sunken yellow eyes. A heavy black hood reveals more to me than it obscures, a completely unnecessary cane clutched in one clawed hand. I squint, and Valkorian returns in all his former glory._

“ _What do I want?” Sunda's voice asks. The bodies rise, sickeningly disjointed, Valkorian's words coming from their mouths. I desperately try to hold on to my anger. It's safer than fear._

“ _I want you to try,” Din continues. He's holding Grogu, our son a rag toy in his hand. I'm losing my grip on anger. “I want you to try, with all your might.”_

~~*~~

I did my utmost to suppress a scream as I jerked myself awake. Without even looking to see if I'd woken Din, I slid out of the bunk and headed straight for the galley – I didn't care if spotchka tasted like ass, I needed the drink.

Gods damn it. Gods _damn_ it! I shotgunned my first pour, and the second. By the time I'd finished pouring the third, my hands had started shaking.

I sat down hard, forced myself to breathe, to focus. Grogu was far enough away that I hoped he'd been saved this particular nightmare. If not, my prayer was that his teacher's supernova of an aura had protected him. Unbidden, my knees came up to my chest, and I dropped my head against them, hands knit tightly behind my head. This was not okay. This was _really_ not okay.

“So, you mentioned killing this god wanna-be.” Boba's voice brought my head up near violently. I hadn't heard, or even felt, him enter, but there he was, leaning against the counter, spatula in hand while the hotplate came up to temp. “When are we gonna get on that?”

“What...?” My voice was ragged as I straightened, both hands wiping the wetness from my face. My chest ached; I must have been sobbing, but I didn't remember doing so. My brain caught up with what he'd said a moment later. “Oh, fuck, no... you too?”

“Israa!” Din, helmetless and pajama clad, barreled into me before Boba could do more than grunt, gathering me tight against him. “ _Ni kar'ta, ni olar. Ni olar._ ” I buried my face against his shoulder; if Boba had gotten it, he would have to. I let him pull me into his lap as he slid into the corner seat, back braced against the wall as usual, still murmuring soft nothings to calm us both.

I was approaching coherent when Fennec joined the rest of us, though I only became aware of it when she slammed my cup back onto the table. I peeled my face away from Din's chest to look at her.

“What... the... fuck...” she breathed, all ashen shades of shock and fear. “Was that?”

Great.

I sighed and gently Force-pushed the spotchka bottle to her. “Have another drink, it'll help.”

“Yeah...” She nodded and poured another, tossing it back much as I had, before sitting down and working on a third.

“So. Gonna explain?” Boba asked, surprisingly gently.

“You all just met the Emperor,” I said, very softly.

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ni kar'ta, ni olar - My heart, I'm here


	41. Chapter 41

Boba set plates in front of us, then settled heavily into the seat Cara had been using before we dropped her off.

“I'm sorry,” I added, again folding up on myself in Din's lap. “I tried to contain it, once I realized what was happening. None of you should have to deal with...” I paused, taking a shallow, ragged breath. “He's not your problem, he's mine. I should never have considered asking you for your help.”

“This doesn't leave the ship, or I'll kill you myself,” Boba said around a mouthful of food, fork waving in my direction, “but I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that, because this _demagolka_ went and made it personal, fucking around in my head like that.”

Fennec started laughing hysterically, forcing Boba to take her stolen cup and place it on the table before it sloshed everywhere. I could almost see the raised eyebrow I was sure he was giving her. I smiled softly and shook my head.

“Thank you,” I said, once Fennec's laughter had faded to the occasional snort. I meant it, too. The last time I'd done this, I had a fairly decent support network in place pretty much from the word go. This time... this time, all I had were the three people sitting around the table.

“This is the second time he's done this, _cyare_ ,” Din pointed out. “Why?”

“It's part of his game.” I took a moment to enjoy the spicy sausage before continuing. “Terror sustains him, remember? He wants to see if he can break us. Me.”

“Fucking effective tactics,” Fennec muttered. “How did he even pull us into that?”

“Through me,” I sighed. “You all have some kind of direct relationship with me, and with maybe, _maybe_ one or two exceptions, I'm the strongest Force user in the galaxy at the moment, far as I can tell. Given that, creating spillover to you three wouldn't be hard.”

“It's not your fault, Israa,” Din said softly, running his hand down my arm.

“Maybe not, but it is my responsibility. I wish I could promise that it wouldn't happen again, but...” I shrugged and pushed the remains of breakfast around on my plate.

“Hazard of war,” Boba grunted. “Just do what you can.”

“Should probably finish the Shit Gets Weird briefing, though.” Fennec snatched her cup back and finished the drink, but didn't refill it. “Since now we've all had a taste of the crazy.”

“Fair.” Din patted my shoulder, indicating he wanted up, then went and started caff as soon as I'd settled back on the bench. I took a couple more bites (who knew Boba could cook?), then dropped my shoulders with a small sigh. “Marr's flagship had just exploded, right?”

That got a general murmur of assent. I nodded, and scrubbed my fingers along my hairline. “Right. So, came to on an Eternal Fleet ship, cuffed, etc. And had my first run in with Arcann.”

“Arcann?” Fennec asked curiously. Well, might as well get the big reveal done now. And sort out the name thing. Ugh.

“Okay, so, quick pause before we get into story time for real.” Din set a cup of caff in front of each of us, then settled back into his customary seat. I slid up against him – I could feel the low grade anxiety he had with his face exposed as it was. “Couple things we're going to get out of the way. First, Vitiate has gone by several names over the centuries. For the Sith Empire, Vitiate was what was used. For the Eternal Empire, it was Valkorian. Before that, Tenebrae. There's probably more I don't know about.”

“Wouldn't surprise me if he was using Palpatine this time around,” Boba muttered darkly over his caff. The name tugged at something in my brain, but I didn't have the capacity to chase it.

“Second?” Din prompted. Well, here went nothing.

“Arcann was Valkorian's son.”

Fennec's fork clattered to the floor. “ _That karking asshole procreated?!_ ”

“Twice.” I took a sip of caff, then swallowed quickly to clarify. “Well, three times, I guess, Arcann had a twin in addition to the little sister. And probably a prior iteration spawned as well, but I only ran into the two.”

Boba and Din were exchanging rapid Mando'a – I couldn't catch enough of it to follow what they were saying, until Din abruptly switched to Basic. “Of course I didn't know this before! She'd only been able to get as far as Ziost before she was captured!”

I made a small noise of irritation and shook my head. Again, with the suspicion from Boba. I didn't blame him; this was above and beyond even the strangest things he'd likely ever dealt with. “Do I really need to do this again, Fett?” I asked, tired. “I don't particularly enjoy avoiding people I'd like to consider friends.”

Boba stared at me for a moment, then set his caff down. “Enough context. Get to the important stuff.”

I couldn't tell if he was irritated or amused, so I just sighed quietly and continued. “Arcann escorted Marr and I to meet his father, which confirmed what we already knew: Vitiate was Valkorian. Valkorian made an offer of our freedom for our fealty, Marr made it abundantly clear he would never kneel for the Emperor again. He managed to kill a couple of the throne room guards before Valkorian used Force lightning to kill him.”

“Wait, that shit is real?” Fennec sounded equal parts impressed and terrified. “I thought it was just a myth.”

“Nope.” I held my right hand up and let a few blue crackles jump between my fingers for a couple seconds. “Not a myth.”

Fett mumbled something about ' _darjetii bantha shit_ '. I let it go.

“Valkorian dismissed everyone but Arcann and myself, then offered to share his power with me in exchange for my allegiance.” I snorted derisively. “I basically spat in his face and told him he's never shared anything in any of his lifetimes, that he only took and corrupted, and destroyed anything he couldn't control.”

“Given his sick obsession with you, I can just imagine how that went over.” Din sounded less than thrilled.

“Mhmm, about like you think.” I took another swallow of caff. “He ordered Arcann to kill me. Arcann, however, undid my stun cuffs, tossed me one of my lightsabers, and told me this was my chance to kill Valkorian. And like an idiot, I did.”

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> demagolka - someone who commits atrocities, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche.

**Author's Note:**

> So, at several requests, here's an update. I'm currently at something like 75 pages and counting, and yes, I have LOTS planned for after the season two content runs out. My everlasting thanks to Ivalane, who has so wonderfully agreed to beta read for me, and has kept me sane and grounded for the last several weeks while I worked on this. Iva, you're amazing and a godsend, and I don't know where I'd be on this without you.
> 
> If you need translations for a certain chunk of Mando'a or any other language that crops up in this thing, please feel free to leave me a comment or pm me on my tumblr, over at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jaydecaminus. I'm happy to provide them, especially as things continue to go on in this piece, Israa's in-fic translations may get fewer and farther between as she gets more comfortable with Din and their supporting network of characters.


End file.
